#you can just see how the information we are giving him are sinking in pic by pic
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My faourite set of pictures I got in Berlin is by no doubt this confused but supportive boy with a transflag- gah I love him so much 🥹🏳️⚧️💚
#you can just see how the information we are giving him are sinking in pic by pic#and how honored he is to have the flag#he was so dang amazing about it#one of my highlights#which is probably why I took this many pictures of it xD#käärijä#jere pöyhönen#käärijä eu tour#my gig#berlin gig#mine
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WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME? — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: in which jack hughes should be afraid of what y/n can do to his reputation
notes: yeah, idk what this is either; there’s not much plot.
september 16th, 2023
deuxmoi
24,107 likes
deuxmoi pop sensation, y/n, is seen hands on with new boy toy?
if anyone has any information on who this man is, do come forward! we’d love to know who america’s queen of heartbreak anthems is with now!
view all 549 comments
user82 the hand placement?! HELLO?!
user3 oh great, new music where she makes herself some sad victim again
user55 a new love album next?! maybe?!
user09 let’s not get ahead of ourselves, it’s some low grade pap photos posted on a gossip blog. it could’ve been a first date for all we know
user45 @/user09 with the way they are in these pics? absolutely NOT a first date. y/n has famously said she doesn’t get “frisky” early on because of her ex. most definitely a bf
user92 oh her next song is gonna HIT
user06 that guy kinda looks…. where were these taken and when?
deuxmoi all the sender said was that they saw them in michigan last night! know something?
user06 hmm the tl matches! that looks like it could be @/jackhughes , a hockey player for the New Jersey Devils!
user98 OH MY GOD, YOU’RE RIGHT!
user67 those hands?! girlie better never let him go!
september 27th, 2023
y/nofficial
liked by sabrinacarpenter and 4,628,961 others
y/nofficial every dead end street led you straight to me 🤍
view all 7,923 comments
user72 SOFT LAUNCH OH MY GOD
user5 oh he’s got her using emojis?! she’s down BAD
user29 i’m so happy for her, she deserves so much love and happiness and it seems like he gives that to her 🫶
user6 MOTHER?!
user01 what poor boy did she sink her claws into this time?
user9 if you don’t like her, why are you on her post? obsessed much?
sabrinacarpenter he scored 😉
y/nofficial sab!! nah, i think i did!
user92 he better be treating her damn good! it’s what she deserves after ‘he who shall not be named’!
user76 i know who you meant but also started giggling at the idea of her writing an album about voldemort 😭
y/nofficial @/user76 gasp! don’t you know who lover is about?! the dark lord and i just couldn’t make it work :(
october 10th, 2023
jackhughes
liked by y/nofficial, nicohischier, and 815,736 others
jackhughes as a wise woman once said: “i was enchanted to meet you”
tagged y/nofficial
view all 2,865 comments
y/nofficial my sweet boy 🤍
jackhughes my pretty girl
user76 A HARD LAUNCH
user94 THEY’RE SO SICKENINGLY CUTE 😭 SHE DESERVES THIS
user36 JACK IS DATING Y/N?! OH THE SONGS THAT WILL COME OUT OF THIS
user8 he could do so much better
lhughes_06 about damn time
trevorzegras JACK WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE JOKING
user02 oh they’re so cute 🥹
dawson1417 did you just… hard launch with the biggest singer in america rn?
jackhughes y/n says “what? like it’s hard?” idk what that means
user16 can we talk about how happy she looks?! and i know her hockey loving self is giggling and kicking her feet over her landing a hockey player! too cute!!
john.marino97 if her next RED-like album is about you, i’m requesting a trade. can’t believe i’m gonna have to listen to songs about YOU
january 1st, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by jackhughes and 5,827,025 others
y/nofficial thank you 2023, you brought so much love and laughter 🤍 can’t wait to see what 2024 brings!
tagged jackhughes
view all 7,503 comments
user86 oh she’s so down bad she was taking pics of him at his game 😭
user9 one tour pic and three pics regarding to jack? she’s so in love
jackhughes here’s to another year with you, my talented girl
y/nofficial i can’t wait for another year with you, my love 🤍
user55 i can’t wait to see you in KC this year!!
user7 she’s truly living her best life and i’m obsessed!!
user21 i hope 2024 is just as good to you as 2023 was!
january 26th, 2024
deuxmoi
36,592 likes
deuxmoi fan submission: trouble in paradise?
pop sensation, y/n, and her boyfriend, hockey player Jack Hughes, were seen out by a fan last night. the fan claims that they overheard y/n consoling Jack about his recent injury that has left him unable to play. in the video (on our site), you can hear y/n telling Jack “i know not playing is hard, i know it’s sad-”. Jack is heard cutting her off and snapping “you don’t get to tell me about sad. you don’t get it, so stop acting like you do.”according to the fan, y/n left the date alone and in tears.
what do you guys think, is this couple over?
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user29 wow what an asshole, she was just trying to be comforting
user4 wtf?
user07 yeah, can’t say i didn’t expect them to end soon enough
user99 she was trying to comfort him and he snapped at her? yeah, i’d hope they’re over
user20 she deserves better
user19 it’s just an argument, everyone is being so overdramatic
user3 do i think they’re over? no. if we know anything about y/n, it’s that she’s forgiving, sometimes to a fault.
user67 i don’t think they’re broken up but if she was leaving alone and crying, i hope they will be soon enough
user82 has anyone thought that maybe he didn’t need comforting?
user13 umm, obviously he did if he snapped at her
user98 idk about everyone else, but i do think they’re broken up if she left alone and was visibly upset
user23 oh i can’t wait to hear what she writes about him. i’ve known he seemed too good to be true
february 14th, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by oliviarodrigo and 7,431,846 others
y/nofficial happy valentines to my favorite boy 🤍
the most kind-hearted, respectful, and loving man i’ve ever had the pleasure of being able to call mine. nobody is perfect, but i think you’re pretty close to it. i’m so eternally grateful to have you in my life 🤍
tagged jackhughes
view all 278 comments
user6 oh, she’s still with him
user02 y/n, baby, please come to your senses
user14 i don’t like him at all after last month
jackhughes happy valentines, beautiful girl ❤️
user65 “nobody is perfect” oh, mother is telling us rn
comments on this post are now limited
march 23rd, 2024
deuxmoi
29,783 likes
deuxmoi looks like y/n and her hockey beau have called it quits! eagle eyed fans spotted last night that they’ve unfollowed each other on instagram and y/n deleted all photos of him.
previously, y/n ONLY followed jack, now she’s back down to 0, which fans seem to read as a finality to their relationship.
view all 1,736 comments
user95 about time! after that spat in january, i feel like everyone was waiting for this
user72 EVERYONE MOVE! EVERYONE REJOICE! MOTHER IS FREE!
user24 GOOD RIDDANCE!!
user61 can’t wait to hear who the catalyst was, him or her?
user3 obviously she’ll make herself out to be the victim
user61 @/user3 tell me you’ve never actually listened to y/n without telling me you’ve never actually listened to y/n 🙄 she doesn’t shy away from admitting if she was the one who ruined a relationship, she admits she has problems and that sometimes she gets in her own head
user8 it was obviously him after that video in january
user23 everyone is celebrating but have we stopped for a second to realize that she’s probably really heart broken right now?
user70 fr! like, she seemed so in love with him and i feel so bad for her. she seemed to love him a lot more than her exes and we all know she’s a hopeless romantic at heart, so she was probably imagining marriage and babies with him and then he showed his true colors
april 1st, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by tatemcrae and 14,698,276 others
y/nofficial there’s always a fool, but i guess all’s fair in love and poetry… new album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT. out May 14 🩶
but surprise! the first and only single, Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? comes out April 19 🩶
view all 3,279 comments
user18 MOTHER DOES NOT PLAY!!! AHHH
user63 may 14th 💀 she said “i’m not fucking around, y’all WILL know who this is about.”
user9 significance of may 14th?
user63 @/user9 it’s jack’s birthday 💀
user00 OH SHE MUST REALLY HAVE SOME SHIT TO SAY IF SHE’S ACTUALLY DROPPING A SINGLE BEFORE THE ALBUM
user78 i wonder if jack feels stupid yet
user12 new y/n album before GTA6
user93 the vibes??? mother didn’t write an album, she wrote a EULOGY
april 19th, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by john.marino97 and 9,726,820 others
y/nofficial at this hearing, i stand before my fellow members of The Tortured Poets Department with a summary of my findings.
Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? out now.
view all 2,738 comments
user72 i’m speechless
user2 “you don’t get to tell me about sad” SHE REALLY FUCKING DID THAT
user33 I AM IN SHOCK!
user94 MOTHER CALLED HIM OUT
user78 once again i ask, @/jackhughes do you feel stupid yet?
user61 dude just got surgery and she still came for his neck 😭
user09 i mean, not like she was gonna change the release date just because of that but it’s still so 😭
user22 “the scandal was contained….. at all costs keep your good name” she really spoke on the january spat, didn’t she?
user12 “WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?”
user77 @/jackhughes you should be
john.marino97 🩶🩶
user82 oh he’s MESSY! i love it 💀
user50 tbh, i look at this single like a warning. it sounds like jack didn’t think it through before he broke her heart and didn’t think she would speak on him, but she’s warning him right now that he should be scared because she has a lot to say about him and their relationship
user31 she’s so— i love her
february 8th, 2025
y/nofficial posted on their story
february 10th, 2025
y/nofficial
liked by john.marino97 and 11,762,936 others
y/nofficial brand new, full throttle <3
view all 3,627 comments
user93 i- did she just inadvertently tell us we’ve all been wrong about who So High School is about?
user77 this is the fastest she’s ever gotten into a new relationship and you know that means she has to be in LOVE
user04 AHHHHH Y/N AND JOHN MARINO
user82 how do you know it’s him? she didn’t even tag anyone and you can’t see his face
user04 @/user82 she posted john on her story a couple days ago! they’re on vacation together while he’s on bye-week!
user23 i don’t wanna get ahead of myself but,,, they met through jack, did they not? and now they’re dating? mother is messy
user51 is it messy? yeah, maybe- but people have already looked back through old interviews of his, and she’s been his celeb crush for a WHILE now. and i mean, hey, she’s dating someone only a couple years older than her now, one can only assume he’s more mature than j*ck
user92 the way she clings onto him 🥹
user88 she deserves happiness, i really hope he gives that to her 🫶
john.marino97 i knew what i wanted and i got her ♥️
#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes fic#jack hughes blurb#nj devils#nhl insta edit#nhl imagine#nhl fic#faithlynn’s writings <3#faithlynn’s insta edits <3
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hi. alot is happening. bumming off wifi rn. i'm copy/pasting someone from a doc i started in libra office with no internet.
A LOT IS HAPPENING BEHIND THE SCENES AND I’M KEEPING TRACK.
The landlady has made excuses to not give us back the security deposit. She keeps having Dave’s boss call him in a foul mood will all kind of threats and accusations of things we supposedly broke/ruined.
1.) On our first night out of there she has already threatened to call the cops on us by claiming that we filled the house with perfume before we left so it’ll hurt her. What happened was we cleaned it because she demanded that it was clean like it supposedly was when we moved in(it wasn’t clean when we moved in). We used that Meyers shit, which has a pretty muted scent and is supposed to be safe for the environment. And it was just basic sweeping, dusting, and then doing up the ktichen and bathroom just to be safe.
2.) Today she has claimed that we filled the washing machine with motor oil to ruin it as punishment before we left. She swears the whole house smells of oil, after screaming about it smelling like too much perfume that was supposedly used to hurt her breathing. Mind you, mom is an asthmatic so we can’t use things with strong scents because it will fuck her up. If we bought oil, it would be for the van cuz that shit is expensive and we wouldn’t be wasting it on HER of all people.
By now, Dave’s boss is aware that she cannot legally withold the deposit and that she’s trying to use the fact that Dave is a dumbass, against him. Mom however, knows the laws, and the lease said nothing about not using scented cleaners OR perfumes, and she does not have a legit reason to not give us the $1600 back. If she took it to court it would not hold. She has to make an itemized list of her claims, Dave has to acknowledge whether or not they are true, and then it goes to court.
fyi I took videos of everything in the house. Bethy’s Room, Mom’s Room, Bathroom, Living Room, Dining Room, Kitchen. All items that were hers, such as the Oven, Fridge, Washer, Dryer, Toilet, Sinks,Tub/Shower, random Recycle Bin, and Wall Hangings. Inside and Out. All details were recorded before we left. I even recorded us leaving at exactly 11:23 PM Feb 15th 2024, and recorded turning the light off.
Let’s see if she comes up with something else tomorrow. ~5:22 PM Feb, 17th 2024
3.)
Feb, 21st 2024:
I’ve just been informed by Bethy that Dave has gone on to further embarrass us. He insists that he’s got all these racing friends(and tbf they promised to help fund a big event to raise money for us 2 years ago, and then ghosted him AND Bethy when they asked what they had to do to help) who will help and has been harassing them for money.
One of them, an active dirt racer, posted a screenshot with Dave’s full name in a text convo begging for cash. And then half a dozen other dirt racers, active and retired, shared that he’s been hitting them up for money too. How he was in people’s posts about random shit beggn for money and then how he got swindled under his own comment by someone mocking him and posting the same thing he did with a small wording change about leaving an abusive house and Dave not only fell for it but then said he’d try to help them.
And now the greater dirt racing community is aware of this and are mocking him and us and some are making inquiries about Bethy’s well-being in connection to Dave. And their wives are having things to say about how he’s a bad parent and she should be taken away from him.
And I need to remind everyone that this is to pay off a blackmailer who is demanding $300 a week now. Bethy got a bit more info out of him on that and it apparently involves a photo. And there are only 2 types of photos that can get him in legal trouble(since he believes he CAN go to jail over this). So either he sent an unsolicited dick pic, which won’t receive much punishment cuz he’s a man who LOOKS white enough. OR it’s child p0rn, and he’s never given that vibe out of everything fucked up with him so I’m not exactly sure.
But he walks around demanding to know ‘did anyone give us money yet’ and people have donated to the GFM and Mealtrain, and I’ve earned about $100 on Ko-Fi recently, and we haven’t told him cuz he won’t use it for anything good.
He’s been bumming extra money off his boss despite knowing that the van need fixing, we need hot water and heat, and several other problems that need fixing ASAP. And his boss is asking questions and is getting nastier and nastier cuz he doesn’t trust Dave’s intentions and shitty lying.
There is no lease. The owner of this house knows Dave's boss and they supposedly came to an agreement that so long as Dave fixes up this house, we can stay here in the mean time for free. They supposedly made an agreement that Dave's boss will buy everything we need to fix the house up and then send all the receipts to the friend who will then pay him back.
And now Dave's boss is getting so fed up with Dave and his wishy-washy behavior and begging for all this money all the time that he does not earn, that he is now saying he never made any such promises. And he refuses to contact the owner of this house at all. There is no recording. No contract. No signatures. No proof that such a discussion went down at all. It is Dave’s word(unreliable) against the boss’(the one with money and power here) word.
Dave has no way to contact the owner either. Cuz he didn’t think that was necessary apparently. He was perfectly fine making his boss the go-between until his boss got angry.
So our ability to even stay here is hanging in the balance.
Can’t wait to see what other bad news I’m gonna find out.
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So….I lied. I smoked the whole day and couldn’t resist writing chapter 6. And…uh…buckle up.
Tags: @alyyaanna @alyanamrossi @crossrhodez @mylittlepartofthegalaxy @freegardenbanananeck and anyone else who wants tagged.
Warning: implied violence, revenge, argument between reader and randy, implied sub space for reader, slight kink shaming
Chapter 6 of Brothers Best Friend
Cody let out a small chuckle rubbing your back as you clung to him still sobbing. He picked you up and took you to the bathroom and sat you on the toilet while he ran you guys a bath. You reached out to him doing grabby hands and he walked over while the tub filled up. You wrapped your arms around his waist and put your head on his abs. You just wanted some type of close contact with him. He stroked your hair as you started to calm down. For as long as he had known you, he knew physical touch was your love language. And he was prepared for how clingy you were about to become. To say he was excited for it was an understatement. When the water was sufficiently full enough he sunk into the water. You got in and sat in front of him. Your back rested against his chest and laid your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. Cody wrapped his arms around you in a hug and rested his face by your neck. You both sat in the bath in silence enjoying each others’ presence. “I love you too baby girl.” He mumbled into your skin. He was met with light snoring from you. You hadn’t realized how exhausted you were until now so dozing off wasn’t a surprise to cody. He only smiled. He placed a kiss to the side of your forehead. He held you with one arm and reached over to drain the tub with his free hand.
After drying you both off he carried you to bed where you could get some actual sleep. He was even nice enough to put in some makeshift pj’s. He used one of his shirts and hoodies and he put your sweatpants back on you. “I’ll be right back to cuddle. I still have to go clean up breakfast since it’s almost 2pm. That and I still have to get some online school work done. Rest well.” He whispered to you stroking your hair. He kissed your forehead and put his shorts back on. He heard your phone go off. He picked it up to see who it was. He furrowed his brow and walked out of the room still holding her phone. He opened the text messages. ‘Hey lil’ mama, where you at? I didn’t see you at school today. You good? You still mad about Lexi? I told you we just friends. It’s not like that. I don’t know what you think is happening, but nothing is happening. Can we talk about this? Say dinner at 7?’ Before Cody could answer another text popped up from your best friend Brandi. ‘I know you probably don’t think about him like this but how big do you think Cody’s dick is? Like do you think he’s packing? Ask your brother if Cody’s single. Or better yet next time you see him give him my number chica’ cody smirked to himself. He kept this information on the back burner. He went back to jeys text and just simply sent a dick pic. ‘Fuck off dickwad. She’s mine now.’ He then blocked Jey and erased your conversation with Jey. He then texted Brandi his number. He saw an unread message from Randy. ‘Kim’s staying for awhile. Grab what shit you want and stay out of the house for about a week or so. I’m pretty sure rhodes wouldn’t mind the company. Just try to cock block him when he brings girls home. Tell him it’s a gift from me.’ Cody set her phone down and tried not to laugh. “This mother fucker…” he said to himself. He sighed and went to the sink to start doing dishes. After 15 minutes he pulled out his laptop and started work on homework and looking through class notes. His phone buzzed. He looked and saw he had a DM for $500. He opened it, piquing his interest. The note attached to it read: ‘next tinder bitch please whip.’ He set his phone down and sighed. He debated his options. He looked over at you sleeping peacefully. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his desk chair. There was something he was forgetting but he couldn’t remember what it was. He shrugged and closed his laptop and crawled into bed with you.
About three hours later there was angry pounding on his door. “Rhodes open the fuck up. I’m going to fucking kill you.” Cody shot up in a panic. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared to open his door. You awoke too and got up. Cody tried stopping you but it was useless. You flung open the door to stare face to face with your brother. “Fuck off randal! I’m trying to fucking sleep. And if you dare lay a hand on him, I, PERSONALLY WILL RIP YOUR BALLS OFF AND SHOVE THEM DOWN YOUR THROAT!!” You screamed at your brother. Randy’s face got redder when he saw the marks on your neck as well as the hickeys that littered your neck. “The fuck you’d do to my sister you little shit!?” Randy yelled. Before either man could blink, you gave your brother a low blow by kneeing him. You then slammed the door in his face and marched back to the bed and grabbed your blanket and curled up to Cody who still sat up shocked. He blinked a few times before laying back down. He just stared at you. He had a confused boner. He wasn’t sure if he was scared or turned on but he wasn’t going to speak on it. You grabbed his arm and dropped it over yourself aggressively. You curled up to his chest. You then moved around so you guys were spooning.
After about another 2 hours you woke up and Cody was missing. You sprang up and started looking for him. You wondered if Randy was still around. You heard laughing and it was coming from down stairs. You crept downstairs where you found your brother and Cody playing Call of Duty. Both men looked over at you creeping down the stairs. “Bout time you woke up miss priss. Thanks for the injured balls bitch.” Randy said starting another round of the game. Cody had a black eye when he looked at you. You continued down the stairs confused. You walked over and saw they were also smoking. You grabbed Randy’s cartridge and took a hit from it. “What? Not gonna sit by your boy toy? Codes told me everything. At least he’s a better candidate than fuck boy Jey.” Randy said. You got up and walked over to Cody and wrapped your arms around his shoulders and buried your face in his neck. He rubbed your arm and then went back to playing the game. You sat down next to Cody and put your head in lap. You chewed on your sleeve as you watched them play.
You soon felt Randy get up to leave. You didn’t know how long you were asleep. Cody stroked your hair and switched to a different game. He hit off his mod and leaned back into the couch. With one hand he combed through your messy hair. He thought you looked like an angel as you slept in his lap. He smiled to himself. He wasn’t playing his game for very long. He set the controller down and stretched. He looked at the time. “Sweetheart. Wake up. What do you want to eat?” He said, shaking you lightly awake. You yawned and stretched. You rubbed your eyes while stretching. You looked up at him and reached up to cup his face. You rubbed under his eye and frowned. “Randals a dick. This looks like it hurts.” You sat up still holding his face. He kissed your hand and held it in his. He looked at you sweetly. “Did you know Randy had a bet with Kim on when this would happen?” He said killing the mood. You smacked your forehead in irritation. “Are you shitting me? That dick!”
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The Captain’s Daughter (2)
Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader/OC
Warnings: Angst maybe, sibling fluff, sadness, a lot of sadness
Summary: Maverick adopted Goose and Carole’s daughter, she’s one hell of a pilot, and Bob is smitten
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | alternate ending | part 4
masterlist
______________________
..."Get ready, it's a long story," She sighs, sipping her drink.
"I'm always ready," Bob smiles, lightening the mood a little.
"My dad, Nick Bradshaw -callsign Goose- was Maverick's RIO which is now WSO. They flew in the same class as Admiral Kazansky. In an exercise, Uncle Tom -Iceman- and Mav, were competing, trying to get the missile lock on a MiG. Uncle Tom was trying to best Mav but when he couldn't get the shot, he pulled away. Mav flew into Tom's jet wash which forced him and Dad to eject. Dad was caught by a piece of the jet and he didn't make it. Mav's blamed himself since and so has Uncle Tom," She takes a deep breath, looking up at the sky. "Mom was pregnant with me at the time, though she didn't find out till a month later. Bradley was four. My mom died in childbirth, so I never knew my actual parents. Mav adopted me but only took guardianship of Bradley. A woman named Charlie helped Mav out for a bit at first, but Penny and Sarah, Uncle Tom's wife, raise us while Mav was on missions. Otherwise, we grew up on base. Uncle Tom taught us how to fly, even Cyclone helped a little, as much as he hates Mav. Jake and I were good friends, we fed off each other's arrogance, even if I was more humble. Now he's done damage that won't be easy to fix."
Nicole pauses again before continuing. "I wouldn't have gotten upset if I weren't already upset. I've been off since I won the first exercise. I can't seem to get a handle on the mission and I just found out that Uncle Tom's throat cancer is back and worse, Mav and Rooster don't know yet and I shouldn't have shared that. But, I don't want to lose him. He was Mav's wingman and my mentor. I don't want to attend a funeral while I'm here. So yeah, I guess Jake just pressed a nerve that was already hurt," Nicole finishes, letting the information sink into Bob.
"I'm so sorry Gatsby. That is a lot. I can see what Mav is like now, I can't even imagine what he was like over twenty years ago. Thanks for sharing that with me, unlike Bagman, I won't spill your family secrets. Admiral Kazansky was really your Uncle and Mav's wingman?" Bob slightly changes the topic, trying to lighten the mood.
"Oh yeah. When we get back, I can show you all the pictures. I can even break into Uncle Tom's office on base and show you some embarrassing childhood pics," Nicole cheers up a little. The two down their drinks and head back. Phoenix misses her WSO but her bet with Payback and Fritz might be paying off.
After showing the large picture of Iceman and Maverick hanging up, she gives a little picture tour and pulls out a key to the office labeled 'Admiral Tom Kazansky, Commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet.' Bob wonders how she got it but doesn't ask.
"This is a picture of Bradley and me with Uncle Ice when we stayed with him and Sarah after Dad got in trouble and deployed," Nicole hands a frame to Bob. As he holds it, he notices half-packed boxes around the office. "Sarah gave me the key to start packing up in here. Uncle Tom works mostly from home anyway so I offered to bring his stuff home," Nicole smiles sadly as she picks up a family photo. It was Tom and Sarah with their kids -both now live on the east coast- alongside Mav with Gatsby and Rooster.
A week later Nicole is standing beside Sarah and Bradley in her dress uniform. Katie and Ron, Tom's children, were on the other side of Sarah. Nicole catches Bob's gaze in the middle of the service, he can tell she is holding back the tears even if some had already fallen. Penny was on the opposite side of Bradley, supporting her friends and Pete as he stood at the casket. For every shot, a tear rolled down her cheek. Bradley held Nicole's hand tightly, hurting just as much.
Maverick couldn't cry, Captain's don't cry. When he pounded his wings into the casket, it was his final farewell to his wingman. Tom would forever be the better pilot. He always was. As the funeral ended, the Mitchells and Kazanskys hugged each other and made future dinner plans. Katie and Ron were leaving soon and wanted to catch up with Bradley and Nicole. Bob and Hangman found their way to Nicole soon after. Each of them greeted her with a hug. They were the only two who truly knew how close both she and Rooster were to the Admiral. The rest of the 12 didn't pry, leaving them to mourn in peace.
"I'm sorry, Gatsby. I know how much he meant to you," Bob wipes her tears from her cheeks.
"I suppose I knew, but I wasn't ready. He's the first parental figure that I knew before losing," She says. Bob hugs her again before letting her rejoin Rooster in the procession out. She wrote Slider a letter offering her condolences for losing a partner an mailed it as soon as Uncle Tom has died. Gatsby has flown solo for a while, but she has seen the pain of losing a WSO or pilot. While she wasn't close with Slider, he had a recurring presence during her childhood.
A couple of days later, she decides to throw a party at her place for the core 8 as she's nicknamed the group. Rooster was the only one who didn't accept the invite, citing the timeline increase. Fanboy, Payback, Coyote, Hangman, Phoenix and Bob all arrive with different drinks in hand. The theme was an alcoholic potluck. It sounded fun. Half an hour later, everyone is starting to enjoy themselves and Phoenix and Hangman are flirting.
"I can't believe Mav would just hijack the course like that," Coyote says, looking at Gatsby who just shrugs. Rooster told her that Mav was permanently grounded after the funeral.
"My father isn't much of a rule follower," she snorts and throws back a shot. Bob, not being much of a drinker and the assigned DD, adds that to his tab on her. He is worried that she is trying to drown her sadness even if she wanted to bond with everyone. Payback hooks up to a speaker and starts playing music. When Nicole is completely trashed, she sits beside Bob, leaning into him. He awkwardly wraps an arm around her shoulders, not sure what to do. The group decided to share funny stories from different missions. Everyone passes out on the floor, except for Hangman who stumbles to the guest room to claim it. No one finds the second guest room. Bob finds blankets and pillows in a storage closet from Nicole's drunk directions and passes them out before turning everything off and carrying Nicole upstairs.
"Bobby, stay," Nicole slurs, pulling shorts and a ratty shirt out. She also grabs a set of what must be Mavs or Roosters old shorts and shirts, handing them to Bob. Bob awkwardly takes them as Nicole starts to strip. He blushes and quickly turns around. "Don't worry, I'll look the other way," Nicole tells Bob who doesn't turn around but takes her word and undresses. She admires his ass before quickly turning around as to not get caught.
"Alright to bed," Bob walks over to her, pulling up the sheets.
"Only if you sleep here too," Nicole says, to which Bob agrees. He plans on sneaking out of the bed as soon as she falls asleep. "Yay!" Nicole kisses Bob who after a second kisses back. As soon as Nicole tries to go further, he stops her.
"Gatsby, you're drunk. Another time," he promises and she cuddles into him. Bob internally sighs, hoping he didn't ruin their friendship.
When Nicole wakes up, she only vaguely remembers the previous nights events. She realizes that she is cuddling someone, being the big spoon to be more specific. Bob. She remembers kissing him, he must've fell asleep. A quick glance at her clock tells her that it's an hour before everyone needs to be up for today's brief. Nicole untangles herself, heading for the shower. After a quick, cold, shower, she puts on her uniform and heads to the kitchen. She doesn't worry about waking Bob up since her alarm is set.
"Morning," Rooster is leaning against the counter, a coffee in hand.
"What? You weren't even here last night," Nicole steals his coffee, taking a few sips.
"Yeah, when no one returned, I set an early alarm and came over to clean a little and help with breakfast," Rooster motions to the cleaner kitchen and groceries on the counter.
"I can't wait for you and Dad to move in," Mav bought this house after he realized that he wasn't going to be getting another assignment after this mission. He takes over after her rental contract expires. He wants to be close to Penny and the Kazansky's.
"I'll start the pancakes if you do the bacon?" Rooster offers, both of them quickly working to get food ready. Fifteen minutes later, people start waking up to the smell of food.
"Marry me, Gatsby," Hangman moans as he takes a bite.
"Then you will be doing all the cooking," Rooster tells him, not lying. Nicole is definitely not the cook of the family. She can, but it's not on Rooster's level.
"Good morning everyone," Phoenix walks in with Bob, who blushes a little when he sees Gatsby. Within thirty minutes everyone is fed and on their way back to the base.
"Good morning, Sir," Gatsby greets Cyclone in the hall.
"Good morning, Lieutenant Mitchell. We will be going over the valley simulation today. If you could get everyone to the briefing room, that would be appreciated," Cyclone informs her. With a quick nod, she changes directions to get everyone and inform them.
"Your Dad is insane," Bob whispers with a smile.
"He likes to break rules," Gatsby chuckles.
With Maverick being team leader, Gatsby knew there was only a slim chance of being selected as wingman. She hadn't mastered the route like Hangman and Rooster. While she was a great pilot, she is the youngest of the group and still has more to learn.
Hangman is assigned Dagger Spare One while Gatsby is given Dagger Spare Two. She is slightly jealous that she is the only one in the family being left behind, but she knows better than to question her father. She sits in her plane beside Jake listening.
"Come on Rooster, you can do it. Reengage," She whispers from the cockpit. Her heart breaks as she hears about Mav and Rooster both being hit and losing contact. It takes everything in her to stay in the plane and do her job. Hangman tries to get clearance but it doesn't work, her world slows down. Bob stands in her view, non verbally trying to support her. When he and Phoenix landed, it kept her from breaking. She hadn't lost everyone. As soon as Rooster's gps tracker is activated, she lets out a silent sob of happiness. But when the bogie appears on the radar, her heart drops again. Mav has no defenses.
"Dagger spare two, permission to take off in support," She requests, readying to take off.
"Dagger spare one, dagger spare two prepare to take off," command says. With a nod to each other, friendship restored, they prepare for a dogfight. She doesn't look at Bob's worried expression.
"I'm going to lure him away so Maverick can land on the carrier," Gatsby says, intercepting the enemy before it can get lock on Mav and Rooster, who finally activates his radio.
"Keep him going, I've almost got him!" Hangman says as she is close to being locked on.
"Hurry up!" She panics as tone starts. Like Rooster and Maverick, she saved them but it will cost her.
"She copied Rooster," Phoenix says on the boat, a little breathless from shock. They can hear Hangman yelling her actual name, everyone knowing what the next few seconds will bring even if they don't want to admit it.
"I'm sorry Dad, Bradley, Jake. I tried," Gatsby cries over the radio as her plane is hit.
"Dagger spare two is down, I repeat, Gatsby is down," Hangman cries out.
"Gatsby. Nicole," Bob whispers sadly. Maverick and Rooster yell out her name and someone turns it off on the deck, preparing for Maverick and Jake's landing and search and rescues attempt to retrieve her from the ocean, if she was able to eject. Even if she did, it's likely that she hit the water wrong.
A young man, blonde and wearing a flight suit, stands in front of the confused girl. Ahead of her is a field of wildflowers and she seems to be on a patio with doors that leads somewhere. She realizes that he is saying something she can't hear.
"-ole. Nicole. Can you hear me?" He says, his voice sounding familiar.
"Who are you? Why do you know my name? Where am I?" She fires off questions and he laughs at her, only increasing her confusion.
"Really kiddo? I'm only the best goddamn pilot the Navy had to offer, and the best uncle ever," He smiles and everything clicks.
"Uncle Ice! Am I dead? Why are you hot?" Nicole hugs him as he laughs.
"Not yet, you are in sort of an in-between. You have a choice to make. Although, I think it's pretty obvious. As to why I'm hot, I've always been this way. I used to get around before Sarah. Tell Mav to drop his dating rule and give Bob a chance. He's been worried. Before I go and you decide, there are two people who are here to see you. I love you kiddo," Iceman tells her, giving her a tight hug. It's odd seeing him so young, and honestly, her uncle was hot. As he leaves through a door, two people who she's only seen in pictures walk in.
"Mom? Dad?" Gatsby gasps, running to them and hugging them. She's getting a lot of hugs for a change, not that she minds.
"My baby. We are so proud," Carole says, taking in her daughter.
"You are one hell of a pilot. You and Bradley both. Better than Maverick, and better than your brother. Ice would kill me again if I said you were better than him. I'm proud that you three have honored both of us in so many ways. Always singing Great Balls of Fire, carrying our favorite book, having my name, Bradley's call sign," Nick tears up a little, his daughter isn't as much of a copy and paste like Bradley is. To Nick, she is the perfect combination of himself and Carole. The selfish part of him wants to keep her here.
"Mav flying the F-14, and me ejecting into the ocean then dying?" Nicole offers with a small smile.
"Yes, even that. We have and always will watch over the three of you. Yelling at Maverick more has become Iceman's greatest past time," Carole laughs, squeezing her daughters arm.
"Nicky, sweetie, you have a choice to make. You can return or stay here with us," Nick says a bit sadly.
"Will I still be a pilot?"
"That's also up to you, baby. We will support you either way," Carole tells her. The once obvious choice has become more difficult. She wants to spend more time with her parents, obviously, but she also has a lot of people waiting on her back home. She has Bob waiting for her.
"I hope you both know how much I dreamed of this. Well not being dead, but seeing you, living with you. Bradley and Dad did their best to fill me in, but a large part of me was missing my whole life. I always needed you," Nicole says, slightly unsure of her decision, but confident at the same time.
#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob top gun#bob x reader#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x reader#rooster#bradley bradshaw#captain pete maverick mitchell#pete maverick mitchell#top gun maverick#bob floyd x oc#robert bob floyd x oc#bob x oc
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Saturday Morning
Summary: Y/N and Harry spend a lovely Saturday in bed.
Genre: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF and a “Two for the Show” extra!!
Word Count: 2.5K!
A/N: Two for the Show is by far my favorite and the most popular fic I’ve ever written and I just missed my babies so much I had to write an extra for them!! I owe my heart to my loves S @tobesolonely and Nat @harrystylescherry for reading this for me and reassuring me when I needed it!! I am very rusty so please be nice! You can find more of my writing in my masterlist and I really want to hear what you have to say about this one!!! Also hi soph <3 @theharriediaries
**Read Two for the Show first**
***
Saturday mornings had always been Y/N’s favorite.
When she was little, she always woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon coming from the kitchen up the hall (courtesy of her father being an early riser who always got a bit bored in the mornings). As she got older, she spent them sleeping in and trying to recharge from long days at school, basking in whatever peace she could get before exiting her room into the chaos of her loving--but crowded--household. When she got to college, Saturday mornings were reserved for dealing with hangovers, and once she moved to LA and her career began to take off, it was the only time she had for herself in her busy schedule.
Her love for Saturdays had only grown since she had moved in with Harry.
They always woke up slowly, basking in the quiet of their bedroom and the soft glow created by the light that streamed through the small crack in their blackout curtains. The pair were often a tangle of limbs by the morning, pressed together as close as they possibly could get, both of them feeling at their most relaxed when they could feel their partner’s heartbeat against their own. Sometimes someone woke up with an elbow to the ribs, but most of the time Y/N’s cheek was pressed up against Harry’s shoulder, her face buried into his neck, with his arm draped around her waist and tightly holding her to him like she might roll away in the middle of the night.
That morning she woke up to Harry’s curls tickling her nose. He had been growing them out slightly, letting them fall to a middle part that gently flicked out at the bottom. It reminded her of when he had hosted SNL a few years prior and she adored it. It was just the right length to sink her fingers into and hold on to him. But she did not appreciate it pulling her out of her beauty sleep.
She had wiggled away from the wispy hairs, trying to get her face away from the tickling strands when she felt Harry’s hands clamp down on her waist, refusing to let his girl slip away from his grasp.
“Stay,” he rasped, clearly still half asleep and mumbling in a way she knew no one else could have understood. “You’re warm.”
“I’m not leaving,” she murmured, maneuvering her way onto her other side and pressing her back against his chest. “Just adjusting.”
“But I like holding you that way.”
“Hold me this way.”
“Yes, sir,” he smirked against the back of her neck, delicately placing a few kisses to her skin while he was there. “You just wanted to be the little spoon.”
A sleepy but mischievous smile crawled onto her lips as she snuggled further into her pillow, eyes still closed in hopes of keeping the day away just a little bit longer. “Maybe I did. What are you going to do about it?”
The second his hands moved to her waist she knew what was about to happen. A squeal left her lips as his fingers began to move rapidly at her sides, pulling loud and boisterous laughter from her chest. Sleep was a dream of the past now, but she was sure she wouldn’t trade this moment for the world.
When Harry was gone--either on tour, work trips, or the occasional solo visit to see his family--she missed him like crazy. She still remembers the empty heartache she felt when he had gone on the next leg of the tour without her when they were still brand new. She had to be in LA for her now exploding career (thanks Harry), but daily phone calls and incessant texting could only do so much when the person she was quickly falling in love with--for real this time--was on another continent. By some miracle, she had made him feel the same way about her as she did him through a screen.
She always felt like he had taken a piece of her with him when he was gone. He did if you counted the small hidden tattoo of her first initial that had found its way onto his ribs after their (actual) two year anniversary.
The feeling of missing him never left when he was gone. She imagined he felt the same whenever she was on tours or work trips of her own.
While her body fought against his tickling touch, her heart melted into it. These moments, on (usually) quiet saturday mornings, meant the world to her. This was a time that was just theirs, belonging to no one else but them. Their joy and love took place in private, as privacy became something the couple had been increasingly possessive of as of late.
Harry’s loud and giddy laughter behind her sounded like a perfect melody and she could feel his chest heaving against her back as he rolled onto his back and brought her with him. Their comforter was now tangled around them, wrapping the pair together in a way neither of them could move with Y/N’s thrashing. He finally ended his torture when she whezed out between giggles that she was going to pee herself.
“Okay, I’ll stop,” he relented, letting his hands leave her sides to reach them across his stomach and hold her body tightly on top of his. “We both know how you pee your pants.”
“Harry Edward Styles, it happened one time three years ago after nearly an entire bottle of tequila! How long are you going to hold onto that and bring it up?”
“Until it’s not funny anymore,” he snickered.
“You know what’s also funny? When you got so sloshed you were crawling under tables at the BRITs. Or that time that you got so drunk that you sent Jeff a dick pic by accident because you thought you were sending it to me. Or that other time-”
“That’s enough!” he announced, playfully clamping a hand down over her mouth, and releasing her mouth and a disgusted ‘blegh’ when she ran her tongue up his palm.
“Behave Styles,” she teased as she inched her way up his body, resting her head on his shoulder and snaking her fingers up into his hair, giving it a gentle tug as a warning.
“You know I like it when you pull my hair like that, so how about you behave, Styles?”
“That’s Y/L/N-Styles to you,” she teased, but she couldn’t fend off the giant grin that found its way to her lips at the mention of their still very recent nuptials.
The wedding had been small, very small, with only their immediate families and best friends in attendance. While their relationship had started in (and for) the focus of the public eye, they both decided their wedding was going to be just between them and those that mattered most. They didn’t wear their rings in public and no magazines had leaked or published that they were married yet. The day that it became public information was inevitable, but at the moment, the two relished in their little secret.
She felt a swell of love within her as she thought about her husband, sliding out of his grip and onto the bed beside him so she could finally see his face. His eyes were always a little puffy in the morning, a sight shadow of stubble decorating his cheeks if he had shaved the morning prior, but his tired smile was always the same. His pink lips lazily perked up to the left, his deep dimple appearing as if to say ‘good morning,’ and his two front teeth that always reminded her of an adorable bunny made their first appearance of the day. His smile usually disappeared quickly though, morphing into a pout and asking for a kiss.
How could she ever say no?
She settled a hand onto his bare chest and propped herself up to reach her lips to his. Their mouths moved with a well practiced gentle love and passion for each other, Harry’s hands coming to rest on her heating cheeks. She moved herself over him, settling her knees on either side of hips, never breaking their lips apart.
Kissing him was her favorite activity and with five years of practice, they were really good at it by now, but the swirling electricity that always appeared never failed to bring a flush to her cheeks. She could never get used to him. He was intoxicating and she never wanted to sober up.
Their moment was interrupted by a loud grumble coming from Harry’s stomach and Y/N pulled her lips from his and threw her head back with a loud belly laugh she just couldn’t contain.
“You good?” she teased down at him, lightly poking at his bare stomach right below her favorite butterfly.
His cheeks flushed slightly as he dramatically hung his head and flashed his best puppy-dog eyes at her with a silent plea to feed him. “I think I’m hungry.”
“You can be hungry but I’m not getting out of bed to make you breakfast.”
“Well, I’m not getting out of bed either,” his eyebrow quirked. “Aren’t you hungry? Don’t you want your morning coffee that you say I don’t make right?”
She pretended to think about it for a moment. “I’m willing to risk shitty coffee if I get to stay in this bed.”
“I will do anything you want other than getting out of this bed right now.”
“Anything?” she questioned with a raised eyebrow and a curious lilt in her voice. She was quickly answered with an eager knod. He obviously thought this was some sort of sexual request by the smirk that rose to his face. “You have to clean the litter box until I decide I’ve been properly paid back for your veggie omelet and tea.” His face fell.
“That’s your job!”
“Exactly why I don’t want to do it.”
“I’ll do literally anything else.”
“My one offer. Take it or leave it?”
“Leave it,” he said with a theatrical pout and crossed his arms over his chest. She was momentarily distracted by the way his tattoos moved over his muscular and tan arms for a moment, but shook herself from the thought and steeled herself in her stubbornness.
The two shared an intense look for a moment, both of them deciding whether or not they would press the issue further. With a sigh and slight roll of her eyes, she stuck out her hand towards him.
“We go on ‘shoot’ and none of your ‘best two out of three’ bullshit.”
As childish as it felt, Rock, Paper, Scissors had become their way of negotiating most of their disagreements over the years. It was a lighthearted game of chance, and while it sometimes led to a few minutes of frustration for the losing party, it worked for them and stopped arguments before they could happen. Interviewers often thought it was a joke when they answered the usual “secrets to a happy relationship” question, but it couldn’t be more truthful.
“Fine, we play by your rules.”
Their fists dropped down to their opposite palms three times, before both called “shoot.” She had gone for rock. Harry had gone for paper.
A loud combination of a whine and a groan left her lips and she dramatically let her body fall off of his and back onto her side of the bed.
“Fair is fair, my love,” he playfully taunted. “I would like my veggie omelette and I’m thinking I could go for some green tea this morning.”
“I will be getting you back for this,” she grumbled as she began to drag herself off the bed and away from it’s cozy warmth. She slipped his go to Columbia black hoodie over her head and took a pouty deep breath. It would have been more dramatic but she was distracted by how good the sweatshirt smelled. It smelled like home.
“I love you so so much,” he defended, opening his arms wide to grab her for one last kiss before she ventured down to the kitchen.
“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled against his lips. “I love you too.”
She sulked out of their bedroom towards their kitchen (not before Harry swatted at her butt that was barely covered by the sweatshirt) and began to hold up her end of their deal. The cold tile nipped at her toes as she made them both omelettes and bopped along to the music she had instructed their Alexa to play. She fixed herself a morning coffee (that Harry really did always screw up somehow) and rummaged through their cabinet until she found her husband’s special order of green tea.
“Come get your breakfast, princess,” she shouted up the stairs when she was finished and after pausing her music.
“No breakfast in bed?”
“You are not getting eggs on our new--very expensive--sheets. Come down here and give me another kiss.”
She heard a whine of “fine” come from their bedroom followed by the padding of feet. Harry appeared at the top of the stairs moments later, rubbing at his eyes like a sleepy child and she just wanted to pull him into her arms and run her fingers through his hair until he fell back asleep. He pecked her lips softly when he reached the bottom of the stairs, but killed it when he called her a “breakfast tyrant.”
Y/N followed him back into the kitchen and watched him plop his still sleepy body into one of the high chairs at their kitchen island in front of his plate and his favorite mug that read “Coffee has a rough time in our house. It gets mugged every single morning!” She hooked an arm around his shoulders and slid herself onto his lap, sipping on her coffee as she waited for his opinion on his breakfast.
“It’s always better when you make it,” he smiled at her and pressed an eggy kiss to her cheek.
“You always say that,” she smirked back at him, only causing his smile to grow. “Oh, I almost forgot. Alexa, resume music.” He gave her a faux frustrated stare as he recognized what song she had been playing.
“And when we go crashing down, we come back every time, 'cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style!” rang out from the small speaker on their counter and she laughed so hard she would have slipped off his lap if his arm wasn’t wrapped firmly around her waist.
“How long are you going to hold onto that and bring it up?”
“Until it’s not funny anymore,” she used his own words from this morning against him with a cheeky smile.
“You are so lucky I love you so much.”
“And I love you more,” she mumbled against his lips, bringing her smirk with her into their kiss.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!!! If you enjoyed this you can support a broke college kid here :)
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles drabble#harry styles concept#harry styles fanfic#nationalharryleague#mine#one direction#one direction fanfic
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Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) - Jungkook
Summary: You miss him so much, but it seems like getting to spend time with Jungkook is going to take a Christmas miracle.
Ao3 Link: here
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, side Namgi
Length: 17.6k
Rating: Mature
Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort
Warnings: Suspicions of cheating, misunderstandings, panic attack, suggestive content, swearing
A/N: Oooof I am finally done my Secret Santa fic for @thebtswritersclub and only - *checks calendar* - too late. So sorry this is so late @jjeongukkie! It got so much longer than I had planned, and while I had a lot of fun writing it, I did not plan it quite well enough to finish in a timely fashion. Still, I hope you’re able to enjoy a last blast of Christmas vibes and fluff and angst as you slide into 2021! Thank you for your patience, and I hope you have an awesome new year!
I always appreciate all likes, reblogs and comments! If you enjoy reading this, send me an ask! Happy belated New Year to everyone!
---
“You’re not coming home now?”
Even as you say it, you’re vaguely surprised you manage to get the words out. Your lips are numb with shock and disappointment, and Jungkook’s wince on the screen of your phone just makes the feeling even more jarring. More painful.
“I’m sorry,” he says, half pleading and half desperate. “It’s just, this project is so important, and we need to have it ready for rollout…”
Throat tight, the fingers of your free hand pushing into your thigh, you adjust the phone with your other before saying thickly, “You said it would be a few hours in the morning, Jungkook. It’s – it’s Christmas."
"I know, I know, I just..."
He’s still speaking, quick and anxious words about necessity and pressure, and while you’re listening, you’re thinking about the cute lingerie sitting next to you on the bed. You'd been planning a little gift for him when he got home, and when he'd surprised you with a Facetime request, you'd pulled them out of the drawer, thinking it might be a fun little tease to give him a flash of the red and black set. Now, though...
"Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry. Really." Biting at his lip, Jungkook somehow manages to look a bit pitiful, even with the dress shirt he's wearing, ironed to sharp definition. The collar of the black shirt is open, sans a tie – he’d mentioned this morning no one cared about perfect business attire while working over Christmas – and the bare curve of his collarbone just adds to the disjointed clash of his clean outfit compared to his dejected expression.
The look has your throat closing even more, and you try to force a smile. You're well aware of how stressful the new position has been for your long time boyfriend, seen the casualties of the job; late night arrivals at the apartment, distracted eyes while making and eating dinner, forehead creased with frustration every time his phone vibrates, fatigue that throws him into sleep before you and he have really even had any time to talk together. He's also been hitting the gym almost religiously lately, another outlet for stress, and while you love Jungkook's enthusiasm for staying active, two sessions a day, every day, is excessive for him. It also eats into what little opportunity is left for you two to spend time with each other.
But he's doing his best. You know that. You're sure of it. And he promised it would get better, soon.
Soon. So, you swallow the disappointment, and the thing that’s more dangerous, simmering below it and too perilously close to anger. You hitch on a smile, and hope it doesn't look quite as forced as it feels. "I get it, Kookie. I'm just sorry you have to work for so long. Will you be back in time for dinner?"
He hesitates, teeth still sawing into his lower lip as he jiggles his head indecisively and the camera frame shifts a bit. "I'm not sure but – probably?" Your expression must sink just as much as your stomach does, despite your best efforts, because Jungkook immediately grimaces, his hands making desperate little waves of abortive denial. "I mean, I will. For sure. I'll be home, okay?"
When he flashes a thumbs up, deliberately and extravagantly enthusiastic, you can't help but smile, just a tentative lift of your lips. "Just – I love you, Kookie. I hope we get to spend some of Christmas together."
"We will! Promise." Both hands are up now, clenched into eager fists under his chin, and he really couldn't look more earnest if he tried.
The smile comes a bit easier now, and you nod, feeling some of that enthusiasm reaching through the screen. "Okay." Taking a deep breath, you try to redirect the conversation, too painfully aware that sulking isn't going to help at all. "Have you eaten lunch yet? Don't miss it just for your stupid boss!"
His grin is a small, toothy thing. "Nah, I haven't. I –"
"Jungkook!"
"I was saving room for when I got home!"
"Hah! You think there's going to be food on the table for you?" This bickering is so much easier than anything else that you might say, and you fall into it with something like relief.
His eyebrows fall, nose scrunching dramatically. "On the table? Y/N, that's so unsanitary."
"So unsanitary...?"
At your puzzled look, the grossed out expression whirls away, replaced with a smirk that's so abruptly suggestive that you find your breath catching. The way his voice drops, becoming a low hum, just concentrates the effect. "I was saving room for you, of course. But I'm not gonna eat you out on the table, baby."
You huff in scornful incredulity, but it can't take back the fact that you almost choked a second ago. It also doesn't really hide the way your cheeks have heated up into a patchy red, and besides, Jungkook knows you too well. If anything, his smirk just gets even sharper, and he adds playfully, "Unless you have it on your wish list. Then I might consider it."
Fucking around with Jungkook on any surface is absolutely on your wish list, but you're too proud and currently too annoyed to tell him that. "With my luck, it would break trying to hold up your inflated ego."
"My inflated muscles, you mean," he says, and flexes. Which is just so obnoxious, and also the long sleeve hides his arms too well to be truly impressive.
"Do that again when you get home," you order imperiously, and immediately he bows his head.
"You got it, boss," he agrees, and it's that easy, sudden switch, that flexibility, that's at least part of the reason you love him so much. Jungkook is what you need him to be; he's always been comfortable with that role, and your flighty ass needs him in so many different ways. He's never failed you in that respect. Well – not much. You need him with you right now, after all.
Want, you remind yourself sternly. You want him, that's all.
Abruptly he stiffens, turns slightly. You hear someone speaking off camera, high and strained, and Jungkook replies in a confident voice, talking about something you don't have enough information on to fully understand. They have a short conversation before Jungkook says, "I'll be over in a moment, okay?"
Then he's turning back to you, the by now familiar crease back between his eyes. "I've got to go now, Y/N. I'll get out of here as quickly as I can, okay?"
"Okay. Love you, Kookie. And try to eat something."
He nods, curter now, already turning away from the camera. "See you soon."
And you're left with a call ended screen and no reciprocal "love you". The flicker of warmth that had been blooming in your stomach wilts until there's nothing but a cold tightness left. For a few minutes you scroll aimlessly through your apps and messages, fingers restless for something the phone can't give. There are too many Merry Christmas posts, too many pics of friends and family having a good time together with gifts and food, and it grows the hurt in your gut. You and Jungkook had decided not to travel to any of your families' gatherings, to save some money this year after a big and expensive move, but that had been with the assumption that you would be able to take comfort in each other. Now...
Before too long, you give up, toss the phone aside. It lands next to the lingerie, and for the time being you leave them both alone, suddenly anxious to get away from the remote device and the painful reminder both. Your apartment isn't large, and it only takes you a few steps to leave the bedroom and head to the kitchen. You spend several moments milling around there, but you've already prepped everything for dinner tonight; the only thing left to do is the dishes from this morning's simple breakfast, eaten long after Jungkook had already bolted his and left. You clean them with desultory effort, trying not to remember that you and your boyfriend had planned to make something fancy together. The restless feeling doesn't leave with the dishes done, and you check, doublecheck and triplecheck everything before you're even halfway to feeling like this part of the apartment might not need anything else.
The living room, attached to the kitchen, has been decorated with reckless abandon. You've got at least an ounce of beauty aesthetic in your bones, and so does Jungkook, but for some reason when put together it equals a pound of ugly. The tinsel – red, gold, silver, and green – is flung about the room over pretty much any surface that will support it, along with red and green lights. The Christmas decorations are a hideous mash up of whatever you and Kookie have scrounged together from your families or garage sales or cheap outlet malls, plus a few modest clay additions of your own making. Several of the larger succulents and other plants are bowed morosely under the weight of ambitious ornaments, and the cactus on the windowsill looks positively garish with a star perched jauntily on its crown.
And you love it all so much.
Remembering the absolutely wild hour or so that you and Jungkook spent together decorating the apartment – such a rare and precious moment, since you moved here – makes your eyes start prickling with unbidden tears. Jungkook's staggering workload hadn't been so bad, while you were working; acting as a long distance design consultant for a large collection of homegrown companies tended to keep you busy, and you hadn't noticed his absence in a way that demanded you address it. Now, though, with Christmas an enforced break, since none of your suppliers or other contacts will reply to emails, your loneliness curls itself up in your chest, all barbs and agitation. You’re beginning to suspect that maybe the long absences have hurt you more than you thought.
One of your projects is on the coffee table, the spread of files and print outs of possible designs covering the worn surface. You've always preferred working with physical copies for the initial stages, moving to a tablet for more detailed work. You fling yourself onto the couch, telling yourself you might as well do something productive and hoping it might provide a distraction. That lasts for about half an hour, but it's a constant fight to keep your thoughts on the papers in front of you. The unhappiness is curdling your concentration, and more and more you're aware of a simmering resentment, sharp and insistent under your sadness.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. There'd been so little conflict about moving when Jungkook got the job offer. You were already working remotely, and while the pay increase at Jungkook's new company wasn't that much, it was the promise of what could come that made it nearly impossible to turn down. Saying goodbye to your family hadn't been an issue; you were already living in a different city than them, settled there after university. It had been harder for your boyfriend, but not impossible, and despite both of you leaving friends behind, you'd left with excitement. Hope. The future opening up before you two, together.
With a sigh, you shove the papers away. Leave the living room and take shelter on your bed. Send and reply to some Christmas messages. Make a face at the snap Jin sends you, a little blurry, his flushed cheeks matching the red reindeer antler headband he's wearing. He's holding the gifts you sent several weeks ago, an adorable pair of windup salt and pepper shakers shaped like teddy bears that can walk across the table, along with a few duck-shaped strainers. The caption makes you snort. I'm bearly making it without you, sis. I'm like a duck out of water. The next snap is clearer, of him and his two roommates, Jimin and Hoseok, all making heart signs. Thanks for the gifts! Hope you have a Merry Christmas!
He's in the same city as your parents, and you know he spent yesterday with them. Looks like he's having a great time with his roommates, too. Before the affection can sour, you save the photo and put your phone down again.
Kitchen, living room, bedroom. A discontented circuit you don't know how to break yourself out of. It feels so dumb to be making yourself even more miserable like this. You should phone one of the few friends who aren't with their families, or maybe your parents – hell, you could even phone Jin, he and his roommates would be sure to talk with you for an hour or two. But the thought of admitting you're alone, Jungkook having chosen work over spending the holiday with you, has your shame rising to scalding levels. The mere prospect of hearing and seeing everyone happy while you’re alone is another hurt, one that makes you curl up more tightly on the bed, clutching his pillow to your chest like it could fill up the hollowness settled in your lungs. Just like all of the sheets, it has his scent, light and flowery and soft, and it inspires an aching, cloying feeling that isn't really close enough to comfort, but you hold it tighter anyways.
The day drags on like that, swamps of self-pity drained by bursts of frantic activity. You clean up a bit more, work on a project, watch some TV. And then the rush of drowning loneliness fills up your lungs again and you're reduced to more aimless pining.
By three, with no texts from Jungkook and the need to start cooking soon looming large on the horizon, you send him a message. Hey. Gonna be home soon?
About half an hour later, you add a ? that still gets no immediate reply, and agitated tension has you wondering if you should call him. But what if you interrupt something? Get him in trouble? Worrying the thoughts ragged in your head, you resolve to give it just a little more time. Hell, for all you know, maybe he’s on his way home now.
At around four, your phone starts vibrating. Not a Facetime request, this time, but the name that pops up is welcome all the same. You answer almost breathlessly. "Hey Kookie!"
"Hey Y/N."
Right away you know this isn't the kind of phone call you were hoping for. Jungkook's voice is gravelly and tired, more like a bruise than a sound. Your shoulders slump, and you can't find it in yourself to say anything.
Your boyfriend tentatively breaks the silence a moment later. "Y/N, I'm sorry. Things are spilling over and I'm not going to be able to leave for awhile longer."
"..."
"Y/N? Are you -"
"How much longer?"
You can practically hear the wince. "I'm not sure yet."
"Jungkook..." But once again, the words catch in your throat, trapped by just how ungrateful and immature you feel.
"Look, Y/N, I was thinking. Maybe, if I come home too late, we can move dinner to tomorrow? I'm definitely going to be home all day, so we can have a nice breakfast and dinner and maybe open our presents and..." There's nothing in the quiet between you two. Certainly not your agreement. "I know I messed up and that this isn't fair to you, Y/N, and I'm sorry. Maybe – couldn't we just... reset? Start Christmas for real tomorrow?"
"Reset?" you repeat. "Like – what, like one of your video games?" The swampy depression is bubbling now, surging with the outrage that's been building all day.
"No, that's not -"
"We can't just reset, Jungkook. This isn't a level you get to just do over!"
"I know that, that isn't what I meant, you're -"
"I've been waiting here all day, Jungkook! By myself! Just waiting here for you! Do you get how bad that makes me feel?"
Jungkook sounds choked when he replies, though it's hard to tell if it's from guilt or anger. "I know I've made you wait, and I'm sorry. But the project -"
"I don't care about the fucking project! You should have told them to fuck off when they asked you to work!" You're full on shouting now, eyes stinging with tears, the sound tearing from your throat. "This has been the worst Christmas I've ever had, and you just want me to forget about it?"
His voice doesn't get louder. If anything, it gets quieter, smaller, coiling in on itself into a tight mass. "Do you think I'm having a good time? I've been working since 8:00 on Christmas day! It's not like I asked to come in, and they barely gave me a choice! I'm the junior here, do you think they would have been okay with me shrugging today off?"
"Today? Today?" Your laugh sounds too cruel, even to your own ears. "It hasn't just been today, Jungkook! This is just – more of the same! More ditching me – ditching us – for work. For some stupid reason I thought that you might consider Christmas an important enough day to knock it off for just one fucking second. But I guess not."
"I'm doing this for us! For – I told you how much work it was going to be! I thought you'd be okay with it!"
"And I thought there might be a tiny little exception made for Christmas. I guess we were both wrong!" you spit furiously.
There's a pause, heavy with the sound of both of your staggered breathing. You're too angry to regret what you've said – or at least, to acknowledge how much you regret it – and the bewildered hurt is travelling straight to your head, leaving you dazed and disconnected. Could Jungkook really have thought you were okay with what's been happening? Okay with being left alone for what feels like months now? How can you be listening to his tense exhales and still not understand the person on the other end of this call?
"I'm sorry, Y/N." Too polite, too gentle by far. Where the hell did he get off sounding like that? You know that's Jungkook – that he's far more likely to shutdown during an argument, to close off – but it leaves you clashing against air. No opposing force to clamp down on your own anger.
Heaving in a sharp exhale, shaking your head even though he can't see it, you say, "Do what you want, Jungkook. I'm not making the dinner if you're not leaving right now."
"Y/N..."
"Merry Christmas." You hang up.
It feels horrible. The phone is a dead weight in your hand, the anger an even heavier weight in your heart. You make a fractured noise, a frustrated scream that quickly trails into a barely checked sob. If you felt bad before talking to Jungkook, it's nothing compared to the mix of self-recriminations and resentment assaulting you now. He was just - why did he have to - why couldn't he -
Why did I have to say that to him?
You know Jungkook. How hard working he is, how dedicated, how keenly he wants to do well in front of and for others. He isn't working late because he doesn't want to see you; you're sure of that. It's just an inability to say no to his superiors. And... and you really haven't told him how unhappy you are with how often he's away.
But still. Couldn't he figure it out? Did you need to spell out your misery for him to get it? Is that really what your relationship amounts to?
Another aggravated exhale parts your lips, and you start pacing faster, needing the release. The next few hours stretch in front of you with wretched promise. What do you do now? Just wait by yourself until he gets home? Have to see his ashamed, hurt, averted eyes, the way he would creep into the apartment with a shield set between you and him? And then what? Go to bed with that block between you two, wake up and somehow try to pretend it doesn't exist tomorrow?
The tears flow down your cheeks despite your hands’ furious attempts to press them away and there's no way to stop them once they've begun. You cry, the way people often cry when they’re lonely, like silence is their only companion and they're afraid of scaring even that friend away. Quietly, then, no longer trying to hold the tears back but unable to give voice to the magnitude of your pain, either. The wet, soft sobbing quickly sends you back to bed, where you curl up once again, struggling for some kind of self-control.
God, you just miss him so much. Not today, not now, not – it's a void of the little things. The snicker when you berate him for being messy. His warm, gentle hands on your neck after a day hunched over a project, massaging out the pain. A little giggle as you watch a Ghibli film together. The shoving matches when you're out shopping and competing for who can get the most stuff on the list. The quick kisses and the slow kisses and the deep, hungry kisses that always lead to you waking up in his arms the next day, far later into the morning than usual.
You miss him so much, and you just pushed him away even more.
With a muffled sob you push your face further into the pillow, hating how pitiful this is, how much you're struggling to get your emotions under control. This is so – it's ridiculous, that's what it is. Childish. It's not as if you've lost Jungkook forever, and you haven't lost all of the things you love about him, either. It's not like you never goof off anymore, or cuddle, or talk. It's just – it's just that everything has been so much more frantic, hurried, and stressful since the move. It seems like there's never a moment where you can just sit together and love each other and think of nothing else.
The anger, remorse and dejection feed off each other, first growing and prolonging the wrenching feeling choking your throat, and you cry until time doesn’t mean much anymore. The grief is so horribly thick it’s like you can’t even breathe through it, let alone do anything but lie in bed. It goes on and on and – and then exhaustion overtakes your convulsive crying. Eventually, without ever actually being filled, the hollow ache contracts into a hard pit, the tears all forced out. Nothing else, though. The guilt and resentment and sadness are still there, dulled to a grey, insubstantial mass.
But at least you can think a bit. Listlessly, with all the colours drained out of it, but you can do more than sob. Wiping at your clogged nose and tear-streaked face, you find you can actually breathe, something of an improvement. You sit up, gently set the pillow back on Jungkook's side of the bed, giving the soft material one last swipe, trying to rid it of the wet evidence of your meltdown. No luck there, but it'll probably be dry before your boyfriend gets home.
If he gets home.
The bitterness of that thought is too tired to summon more tears from the hole in your heart or your head. You shake it away, more because you're just too drained to cling to the heavy emotion than because of some angelic impulse to forgive.
You know you have to do something. Anything. Literally anything will be better than just sitting here, waiting for Jungkook to come in, getting pricklier with each passing minute. With the Christmas dinner off the table, you suppose you could just pick up something to eat. Fast-food or something... have it ready for him to heat up when he was done work... like you're some trophy girlfriend.
Once again you need to stop yourself, biting back the wave of resentment. God, this isn't doing you any good, and it's so, so unfair to Jungkook. Yeah, maybe he shouldn't have agreed to work on Christmas. Maybe he should have been more sensitive to how far you've been drifting apart because of his long work hours. But at the same time, yelling at him over the phone wasn't the answer, either. He's probably having as bad of a time as you are, and with no private room to cry in, either. He'll be totally repressing the argument now, shoving it into a locker and subconsciously telling himself he's to blame, that he's a horrible boyfriend. Trying to listen to his coworkers and do his work with those harsh criticisms running low and dark through his head. That's how Jungkook is. He takes everything onto himself, especially if you give it to him.
Running your hands through your hair at the thought, pity clenching your chest, you abruptly get up. You and Jungkook definitely need to talk, and soon. But – but there's no reason to close out this shitty day with an even more horrible evening of strained silence and brittle rebuttals. Neither of you are particularly good at apologizing, even though you're both great at feeling guilty. You just don't have the words for it. So, unless you do something – make some gesture – this is just going to stretch into an awful, prolonged fight that isn't a fight at all, both of you retreating from each other.
It's unbearable. You can't stand it. So… you're going to do something about it.
Resolved, as resolved as you can be, you change out of your PJs. The weather's been quite warm, with no snow to speak of, so it's not like you need to bundle up much. After a moment of hesitation, you choose to snag the ugly Christmas sweater. It's got a comically drawn pink bunny on the front, absurdly muscular, with a red Santa hat settled firmly between its ears, and a myriad of red and green patterns crammed into the background. It was the rabbit's expression and the accompanying phrase that had got Jungkook to laughing until he was doubled over when he'd seen it at the mall last year. A challenging, almost intimidating grin is plastered on the rabbit's face, with the words This Bun Don't Want None in cheerfully bedazzled white underneath. Your boyfriend had quite literally begged to get two and wear them to the upcoming Christmas party, and he'd been too imploring for you to say no.
Slipping it on, with the accompanying memory of his hysterical amusement, crinkled nose, and bunny grin every time he caught a glimpse of you at the party, is the closest you've felt to peace in the last few hours.
You throw on some dark jeans and apply your makeup with a thoroughness that's a little much, given that you're not going anywhere for long. You don't care; it feels good to dim the red-rimmed eyes and splotchy cheeks your breakdown has gifted you, to cover it over with something prettier. Finishing with the last of the mascara, you grab your transit pass and head out, closing the door behind you with a finality that could almost be a goodbye.
The air outside is cool, a relief compared to the stuffy apartment, at least for now. You inhale deeply, the mild cold burning your sinuses and clearing your clogged head a bit. In a while, you might regret not having a warmer layer on, but for now it’s a relief to begin to walk, to stretch both your legs and your mind from the cramped defensiveness the apartment had been inspiring. This is – this is a good idea. You’re positive about it now, and can feel your shoulders loosening, steps becoming brisker.
If Jungkook can’t come to you – well, you’ll just go to him. At least for now.
Your building isn't too far from Jungkook's work; you only have a short train ride and a shorter bus ahead of you, according to your phone. You’ve been to his work three times before, but always in your shared car, and you walk with eyes fixed on your screen, calculating the time schedules. Part of you wants to text him, send a little olive branch to smooth the way and let him know you’re coming, but a larger part longs for something romantic and cute to happen today. Fast-food might not quite cut it, but surely a surprise visit might? You won’t stay long, won’t interrupt his work, but just to see his face, confused and then quietly grateful and loudly gleeful when he realizes why you’ve come –
It seems like that shouldn’t be too much to ask.
The trip flies by; you're too anxious in your own head to notice much outside of it, and besides, there aren't many people out and about today. Probably busy celebrating with their families.
You bite your lip at the thought, and violently yank your attention away.
At this rate, you should sign up for a game of Olympic tag. Surely nothing can run as agilely as you've been doing, avoiding every uncomfortable idea.
Jungkook's work is downtown, and there are tons of fast-food options nearby. You pick a smaller chain, KTown Fried Chicken, that both you and Jungkook enjoy. It's hard to convince yourself the cashier isn't judging you at least a little bit for your weird presence on Christmas night. Or maybe she's just eyeing the sweater. That’s another possibility.
With only one other person in line, the food comes quickly, and then you're on your way. Somewhere between stepping off the bus and smiling awkwardly at the girl behind the counter, it occurred to you that you didn't know when Jungkook was actually leaving work. He obviously didn't pack up right away after your argument – he would have made it home before you left – but that doesn't mean he isn't going to be heading home some time soon.
What if you show up and he's not there? What if he shows up and you're not there? What would he think? It is entirely too much to ask your wrung out brain to decide if it would be hilarious, infuriating, or some kind of karmic justice, but you do know that you'd rather just catch him at work with this peace offering. Much simpler that way, so you hurry your steps, snugging your sweater a little tighter around your frame as you do so.
You make it to the imposing office building of Projeck at around six, which is, as it happens, when two of Jungkook’s coworkers are leaving the building. Jungkook talks about them quite a bit – actually, gushes might be a better word – and you’d met them at the office Christmas party a couple of weeks ago. Namjoon, a tall, elegant man with blonde hair currently dressed in a black turtleneck, is one of the lead game designers, and he holds the door open for Yoongi, an audio engineer. The older of the two, in an oversized, comfy hoodie markedly at odds with his companion’s attire, slouches through with a tired smile of thanks.
Both had made a good impression on you at the party (it helped that they were obviously fond of Jungkook and appreciative of his talents) and you’re a little relieved to see them. Solved the awkwardness of trying to get into the building without letting Jungkook know you were here. Both pause at the sight of you, confusion creasing their features, before a grin flashes across Namjoon’s face.
“Hey, Y/N! Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas,” offers Yoongi as well, shoving his hands into the pockets of the hoodie he’s wearing. His eyes are on your chest, a little furrow across his brow, and it takes you a second to realize it’s the bunny again. After a moment his lips quirk, quiet amusement in the expression, and it makes it easier for you to reply brightly.
“Hey Namjoon, Yoongi. Merry Christmas! Are you heading home?” The prospect makes you a little excited. If they’re leaving, surely Jungkook won’t be far behind?
“Yup,” Namjoon agrees easily. His head tilts a little, scouring over you quizzically, before his gaze finds the bag in your hand. “Are you bringing something for Kookie?”
“Yeah… He, uh, was working so late I thought it might be nice to surprise him with some food.” You say it more like a confession, shoulders tight with the knowledge that this is making you sound way better than you actually are.
Namjoon whistles, eyes widening. “Wow, that’s really nice of you.”
“I mean, I haven’t done much today so –”
“He’s not here.” Yoongi states it so bluntly that it takes you a second to process what he said.
“…not here?” you ask, dismayed.
“Nah.” As your stunned eyes fall on him, giving him your full attention, he shrugs uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. He left like… twenty minutes ago?”
“He did?” Namjoon demands, and Yoongi just shrugs again.
Clutching at the paper bag that suddenly feels pathetic and cheap, a stupid idea, you say weakly, “Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, and both of the men’s expressions are soft with a sympathy that doesn’t make you feel any less stupid. “I guess… I’ll go home, then.”
Shifting again, a movement that has him brushing briefly against Namjoon, Yoongi trails a hand up to his ear. “Uh, I don’t think he was going home? Or at least, not right away?”
"What do you mean?" Maybe he'd mentioned he was stopping to pick up dinner, too? Maybe the fast-food you're lugging around is even more useless than you'd thought? Why hadn't you texted him? Why hadn't you -
"He was asking me about the fastest way to get to, uh, the Golden Closet Gallery. I think he was dropping by there first."
"Did - did he say why?"
"Meeting someone? Maybe? I dunno, he's been quiet almost all day, and he rushed away pretty quick."
You stare at him, tired and confused and more than a little guilty at the mention of Jungkook’s withdrawn state. What are you supposed to make of all this? You know about the Golden Closet Gallery – of course you do. You and he went a couple times, early on after your move here, both of you taking a lot of enjoyment from the art displays. But – it couldn't be open now, could it? And even if it were, why would he be going? Who could he possibly be meeting? Was he trying to take a late tour to calm down? Something else entirely? And – it didn't even matter. It wasn't as though you could reach him in a timely manner.
You were just going to have to go back home, and – you weren’t sure. Certainly not eat. The thought of trying to swallow any food right now, with your stomach tearing itself into pieces of shivering disappointment, is too much. Maybe Jungkook would already be at the apartment by the time you got there. Maybe you two could just – sit together. Just be together.
You’re not sure what’s sadder; how much happiness that simple picture gives you, or how sad you are that it makes you happy.
Trying to straighten your crumpled expression, you smile. "Well – thank you for letting me know. Guess I get all of this for myself." Your laugh as you heft the fast-food bag is a small and lost thing. "Sorry to keep you guys. I hope you have a good night!"
You've just begun to turn away, aching to end the conversation before you start bawling in front of these two men, when Namjoon clears his throat, his gaze shifting to Yoongi for a moment. The other man jerks a shoulder, bobs his head, and Namjoon looks back at you. You shuffle a little, desperate to be away but not wanting to be rude to two of the few people at this company who actually seem to be lessening Jungkook's stress.
"Did you take the bus to get here? We could give you a ride if you wanted."
Your throat tightens, and you're already shaking your head before you've even thoroughly processed the offer. "No, thanks, I don't want to take you out of your way."
"Well, if you wanted to drop by the Gallery and see if Kookie is there, it wouldn't be out of our way at all. We live pretty close by." Yoongi nods in agreement, his round face scrunching reassuringly with something that's not – quite – a smile.
When you waver, Namjoon says with studied nonchalance, "Even if he's not there, Yoongi and I don't have any plans for tonight. We don't mind dropping you off."
Still, the thought of inconveniencing them because of your stupid planning – not to mention that you don't know them that well – makes awkward turmoil roil in your stomach. Reading your reluctant expression and apparently hesitant to press you, Namjoon relents. “Well, if you’re sure…”
“Y/N. Come on. We’ll save you a lot of time, and I’m sure Jungkookie would be mad if we didn’t give you the ride. He already throws stuff at me when he thinks I’m not looking; I don’t want him to start chucking shit that actually hurts.” Yoongi’s eyebrow is lifted, an inviting gesture accompanied by a smile with just a hint of gums, and you can’t help but respond, a rueful chuckle that slips out at the picture his comment puts in your head.
Jungkook had mentioned there were a few people he liked to mess around with at work, but somehow it hadn’t crossed your mind that the quiet and slightly intimidating man would be one of his targets.
It decides you.
With a sharp dip of your head, you assent. "Okay, okay. Yeah, sure, and thank you guys. It means a lot to me, and, umm, if you need gas money or something..."
Namjoon throws back his head and utters a loud, barking laugh while Yoongi chuckles. "The company doesn't pay us enough, sure, but I think we can afford to cover this trip, Y/N. Besides, Jungkook's been working overtime so often, I feel like we practically owe you for stealing him so much."
That leaves a sour taste in your mouth that you're quick to swallow. Grinning weakly, you follow the two to their car, a compact grey Honda that's seen better days. Namjoon tries to insist you take shotgun next to Yoongi, but you're far too flustered at the thought of taking his spot and practically dive into the backseat. The first few minutes are a little strained, the fast-food bag on your lap rustling every time you move. Namjoon shuffles through a bunch of Christmas songs on his phone and Yoongi hums to them under his breath, seemingly unperturbed every time his companion switches mid-note.
Eventually, though, Namjoon finds a song he likes enough to leave on, and you find yourself drawn into a relaxed talk with them. Yoongi throws in a comment here and there, and together the two of them are so – easy. They add teasing remarks about each other without pausing for breath, Yoongi praises an arching plotline Namjoon had finished storyboarding today, and when a particularly loud Christmas jangle comes on, Namjoon's already changing it before Yoongi has time to huff in displeasure. You know they're roommates – more than that Jungkook hasn't said – and there's something uplifting about listening to their comfortable conversation.
They don't leave you out of it, either. You talk about your home city. You talk about how you met Jungkook in university, when you both arrived late to a morning Intro to Computer Animation course and were locked out of the classroom as a result. (You'd whispered furiously at each other about who should knock first until another hectic student had come charging up, bleary with sleep, and literally ran into the door when it failed to open. That had pretty much dissolved the tension between you two.) On a wave of laughter from that story, you tentatively ask how the job has been for Jungkook so far.
He's always so keen to hide his stress, so anxious not to talk about it and burden you. It seems like these two coworkers might be a good way to get a better picture, rather than the stitched together portrait you've gotten from the late nights and short, hesitant answers he gives you. At the thought, you pull out your phone to see if he’s sent you anything, but you have no texts.
The laughter dwindles, and you hear Yoongi rattling the spit in his mouth loudly enough to be heard over the music as he makes a lane change. In the other seat, Namjoon runs a hand through his blonde hair. Their silence immediately winds you up, and your hand, holding the phone, falls to the side. Had Jungkook not been telling you something? Was it worse than the late hours? Was –
"This isn't a great company," Yoongi states flatly, when it becomes obvious Namjoon is still groping for something more tactful to say. "They make you feel like you owe them your finger bones just because they pay a bit above average, and if those aren't showing from hitting the keyboards enough, you're some kind of failure."
"Yeah..." Namjoon sighs. "They tried that with me, but Yoongi's been there for several years, he's the best they've got in the audio department, and he made it clear that if I left, he would too. So they pulled back a little. Jungkook, though..."
"He doesn't say no. I've told him to – told him I'll throw in for him – but he's really afraid he's gonna get tossed. Can't blame him. People get fired too easily at Projeck." His voice is disinterested, but Yoongi makes another lane change, too abruptly this time, and that, plus his tight grip on the steering wheel, is a hint that he’s not quite as untouched as he sounds.
You press your back into the seat, trying to give yourself a semblance of a spine as your whole body threatens to fold. You'd had an inkling that Jungkook was maybe conceding too easily to upper management, but it sounds like he's having way more than a little pressure to work late put on him. This – actually this sounds toxic. Crippling. And Jungkook hadn't said anything about it.
And you barely asked.
Gnawing on your cheek, you lapse into silence, struggling for something to say.
Namjoon looks back, brows pulling together at whatever he sees on your face. "He's trying to get ahead of his workload, Y/N," he says gently. "I know after today he doesn't plan on going in until after New Years. He said he really wants to spend time with you."
"He was literally moping all over the office today," Yoongi adds. "Was surprised he didn't break his computer screen, he was sighing on it so much."
They're trying to make you feel better, reassure you that Jungkook had missed you and hated being separated on today of all days. They are accomplishing the exact opposite of what they intend, but that's not their fault. After all, they don't know what you'd said to Jungkook over the phone. Part of you wonders if they'd even have been willing to give you a ride if they did know. You're pretty sure you wouldn't have been if you were them.
You might also have tried to run yourself over on the way out of the parking lot, if you were them.
Before you can pull anything resembling words from the mire of rabid guilt curdling in your throat, the car pulls into the Gallery's small parking lot. It's almost surprising to find that there are two other vehicles already parked, and with the way the night is going, it's even more surprising that you recognize one of them as Jungkook's.
"He's here!" you cry out, relief and something heavier saturating your voice.
With a pleased exclamation, Namjoon gestures excitedly, smashing his hand into the roof of the car with a loud thud in the process.
"If you fucking dent my car..." Yoongi begins, but their mild bickering slips by you.
Your eyes are straining for some sign of Jungkook. The parking lot is empty of people, and the big sign above the building isn't lit up. However, it looks like there are some lights on in the Gallery, spilling out into the dimly lit lot, and as you fix your anxious gaze on the interior through the wide glass windows, you think you see the dim form of at least one person moving inside.
He’s here. You’re literally lightheaded with the joy of that certainty. This day has stretched out with excruciating discord, but now, everything is drawing tighter, shorter, focusing into a promise of reprieve. Finally, finally, something’s going right. The blissful expectation of getting to see Jungkook is almost enough for you to forget about everything else. For this moment, you think you’d forego everything Christmas – the gifts, the dinner, the decorations, everything – just to press your face against his chest and feel him holding you.
Hand on the door handle, you keep yourself from leaping out and dashing to the building only with difficulty. “Thank you so much for driving me. I almost can’t believe we caught him.”
“It’s Christmas, isn’t it?” Namjoon replies. “Escaping from Projeck before eight was our miracle – looks like this gets to be yours.”
The three of you chuckle at that, and then you’re opening the door. “I’ll let Jungkook know you helped me. Maybe he’ll stop throwing things.”
“And maybe Santa exists,” Yoongi grumbles, but there’s no annoyance in his rasping voice. “’Sides, that’s not what I want from him. Tell him to think about what we’ve said, ‘kay?”
Assuming he means saying no to the boss more, you nod, emotional with how lucky both you and Jungkook are to have run into such kind people. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t really cover the gratitude their thoughtfulness has inspired in you, and on top of everything else you’ve been through today, it’s almost enough to set you to crying again.
Namjoon seems to sense you’re at a loss for words; at any rate, he fills in the space. “If things change for the better in the new year, we’ll see more of you, Y/N. In the meantime, take care! I hope you and Jungkook have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!”
Your voice comes out husky with gratitude. “Thank you. Thank you. I – Hope you both have a Merry Christmas, too! And a Happy New Year!”
Then you’re out of the car, shutting the door carefully behind you, your jaw tight to keep back the ridiculous tears. Yoongi and Namjoon wave, you wave back, and then Yoongi pulls away, leaving you standing and waving in the parking lot until the car turns and is gone. You take a couple of deep breaths, a smile easing the urge to cry. The excitement hasn’t dimmed at all, and, clutching the fast-food bag tightly, you pivot towards the Gallery, little shivers of anticipation darting under your skin.
You practically run to the doors, and nearly commit the same mistake that student had, years ago, when they don’t open at your touch. The thought of smacking into them and announcing your presence to Jungkook that way has a low laugh bubbling in your throat. Yanking yourself to a halt, you try pulling and pushing on the doors, to no avail; they’re locked. You give them one last jerk, just to be sure, but they remain stubbornly shut. It’s not enough of a deterrent to dampen your spirits, though you find yourself bouncing impatiently on the soles of your feet, unable to get rid of the fizzy energy coursing through your veins.
You’re okay to wait outside until Jungkook comes out – it’s still not that cold out, and how much longer could he really be? – but nonetheless you start heading to the right, circling around the building, peering into the windows on the off-chance you can catch sight of your boyfriend and get his attention. The lights are off in some of the areas, but a few are flooded in a soft glow, and you skim your eyes over all that you can see. The more you look, the more confused you are about why Jungkook would be here. There are no other customers that you can see, so clearly, it’s not some sort of special Christmas showing. You literally can’t think of another reason he might be here. And hadn’t Yoongi said he was meeting someone?
It’s a mystery you can’t solve yourself, and you keep up your roaming examination. Most of the building has glass walls, except for an area near the back, and you can see inside fairly easily, where the lights are on. The Gallery is pretty typical, all open spaces and white, dismantlable walls, the better to more starkly exhibit the art pieces scattered across the wooden floors. There are paintings and sculptures, a few more abstract works, little plaques beside most of them –
But no Jungkook.
Lips pursued, you make your way further around, until you’re on the other side of the building, ears keen for any sound of a door opening. Wouldn’t that just be typical? While you’re wandering around out here, he comes out and leaves…
You should text him. A surprise visit is one thing, but at this point you being outside is going to be surprise enough. With that thought in mind, you begin fumbling in your pockets, awkwardly cradling the fast-food in one hand as you search for your phone. Not in your back jean pockets. A horrified panic starts building, and by the time you’ve clawed all the lint out of your sweater’s pockets, you’re certain. You don’t have it.
A memory, stilted and strained, of your hand falling to your side when you’d been talking about Jungkook’s stress in Yoongi’s car. In your anguish, it suddenly becomes clear to you; you’d dropped it. Forgotten to pick it up again. It was in the car!
For a second, you think that’s going to be the breaking point. The straw on the camel’s back. Your frustration peaks, eyes stinging, hands balled into fists as your excitement is drowned in self-reproach and an overwhelming sense of despair. Why were you so stupid? Fighting with Jungkook, sulking around the apartment, this dumb idea to get fast-food that’s definitely cold by now, and now – now this. You start walking again, barely looking, just planning to get to the front of the building and maybe collapse on the pavement. The crushing unhappiness doesn’t let up. Were you cursed? Was the world out to get you? Had you kicked a puppy in a past life? Why did you end up –
Your raging internal soliloquy is interrupted by movement within the Gallery. Someone is moving inside. Someone tall and muscular, with his black shirt rolled up to the elbows, long, shaggy black hair tucked behind his ears as he lounges against one of the white walls. He’s partially turned; you can only see half of his face, and even that not perfectly because of the narrow angle, but the sharp definition of his jaw is obvious, even from here. There’s something rectangular leaning against the wall next to him, wrapped in brown packaging paper, but you barely notice it. He’s talking to someone equally as tall, their back turned to you, but you barely register them.
Jungkook. It’s Jungkook!
It is not an exaggeration to say that for a second you doubt your eyes. Everything has just been so, so shitty today that you’d almost believe he’s a hologram or a figment of your imagination before buying that your flesh and blood boyfriend is standing some twenty feet away and that all it will take to end this horrible experience will be to catch his attention.
The person he’s talking to must say something funny, because his nose crinkles, lips rising as he tilts his head back and laughs. It’s just a giggle, quickly stifled, but it’s also a needle; the second you see that laugh, your bubble of disbelief pops with a force that’s almost audible. You can’t hear him, but at the same time, you can, fully aware of the way his snicker of amusement started out low and then pitched higher in tandem with his head being thrown back. The sound that isn’t a sound but a memory and a gift and a promise altogether gives rise to something hot and aching in your chest.
“Jungkook,” you say, barely aware of the name slipping between your tingling lips. There’s a rushing sensation in your ears, through your veins, like your blood has just remembered that it’s alive and is eager to prove it. The misery of moments and minutes and hours ago doesn’t disappear, but the sight of your boyfriend is enough to lift you out of it, to buoy you above the churning waves and set you, heart alight, in the clouds.
“Jungkook!” you call, a shout this time, and start waving. He doesn’t hear or notice you, attention fixed on the man he’s with. You still don’t recognize whoever it is, but then again, with his back to you all you can see is the vibrantly patterned orange shirt stretching over his shoulders and a fluffy bit of brown hair. However, whatever he’s saying has sobered Jungkook; from what you can see of his face, his lips have tightened, and he shakes his head now and again.
Who the hell is that, anyways? More vigorous gestures still don’t pull Jungkook’s gaze away from the other person. You know that any second now he’s going to look over and see you, break into a silly, bemused grin, rush over to the window, if only you could just– You’re about to tap on the glass when whoever it is abruptly steps closer to Jungkook. From what you can see, the guy’s large hands are moving passionately, persuasively, and a moment later he grabs Jungkook’s wrist, other hand rising up towards his face. You can’t quite tell what’s happening, except that Jungkook doesn’t shake him off or push him away. Doesn’t push him away, even when he leans closer, their faces inches apart, and the way they’re standing, you still don’t know who it is.
Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind that his personal space is being invaded. There’s an attempt at a scowl on his lips, but you can tell it’s fake, a laugh on the verge of breaking through. You realize your hand is still raised to knock on the window, and let it fall. Brows pulling together, you try to make sense of what you’re seeing. The other man leans in even more, and when their lips are about to touch you wrench your eyes away.
For a long moment you stare at the pavement at your feet, mouth moving silently, like you’re searching for a word that fits what you just saw happen. It couldn’t be what you thought. Any second now, a reasonable explanation is going to come to mind. You’re going to find some frame of reference that makes this understandable. There’s going to be something that changes your point of view, makes reality into fiction. Because this can’t be true. This can’t be happening.
Jungkook could not have just kissed someone else in an empty art gallery while he thought you were waiting for him at home.
Except that’s exactly what happened. You feel yourself change. You’re not a person anymore, not a human; you’re a wound, red and open and weeping. With a strangled sob, you suddenly find your feet moving to match your reeling thoughts, and you stagger away from the warmly lit building. The disbelief is like novocaine, numbing the screaming pain of the betrayal, but it’s not strong enough to force your gaze back through the window. Back to your boyfriend and whoever he’s with. Who knows what they’re doing now?
Stopping yourself from crumpling to your knees and curling into a ball takes almost all of your strength, and you can’t keep yourself from doubling over slightly, one hand across your middle as you stumble blindly down the sidewalk and away from the Gallery. You press on your eyes to keep back the tears, cover your mouth to stifle the high, anguished gasps you’re making, but it does little to fool anyone, least of all yourself. Each sob rips from somewhere deep inside you, opens up the injury even further, until it feels like you might very well be tearing your chest apart.
He couldn’t have. He just– he couldn’t have. You can’t reconcile what you saw with what you know, but how can they be two different things? How can your boyfriend – loving, loyal, protective – exist in the same place as that man who hadn’t mentioned he was meeting anyone, who snuck around on Christmas day to see someone else? How can Jungkook be a cheater? How? How?
How could I not have known?
Bewildered, you scrabble through your memories like they’re a pack of spilled cards, struggling to piece them together, to pick them up and put them in order after they’ve fluttered to the ground in a chaos of white and black and red. At first you can’t find a hint. Can’t find a reason. There’s warmth and laughter and closeness in your memories together, with only spots of friction and hurt. What could the memory of you throwing tinsel around Jungkook’s neck and him parading around the living room teach you about this moment? What could the recollection of Jungkook’s arms wrapped around your shaking form when you’d received news of your grandmother’s passing tell you that you should have already known? What could the shadow of his quiet admiration as you showed him your most recent design reveal to your befuddled mind?
Was the staying late the only clue? The only ace card that trumped every other moment together? Or had there been others? Did you confuse his withdrawal from you as stress when it was really guilt? Had the silence been resentment? Boredom? Was he really going to the gym? Or into someone else’s arms? Did you do something wrong? Say something wrong?
Is this your fault?
You don’t know what to do, and as your steps slow, tears still going strong, you realize you barely know where you are. It’s fully dark now, and people are passing infrequently, with the streetlights only vaguely reassuring as they spill over faces. You haven’t taken any side streets, just followed this main road passed gas stations and boutiques, offices and fast-food joints, so you’re not lost, exactly. But you don’t have your phone. How are you supposed to get home?
Home. Suddenly the ache is more real. Present. Demanding. How are you supposed to go home when you thought home was Jungkook?
What do you say to him? What can you say? The thought of facing him has you trembling with something approaching nausea. Or maybe it’s the cold. It’s late enough now that the temperature is dropping, your heaving breath misting from your mouth, and you hadn’t planned to be out so late. The sweater is doing nothing to keep you warm. The sweater…
“Oh, God…” you mumble, your fingers digging into the tacky material, creasing the bunny that had made Jungkook so happy. “What do I do?”
What do I do?
---
With a grunt, Jungkook shoves Taehyung away using a hand against his stomach, the other man’s breath spilling across his face as he huffs in surprise. The push is strong enough to send Taehyung staggering back several paces, and he nearly trips and falls. Even as he catches himself, Jungkook is regretting the violence of the motion. It’s just – he’s feeling so vulnerable right now, so strained, and his friend acting like a clown doesn’t help matters.
Rubbing at his stomach, the other man complains reproachfully, “I was just trying to show you what to do!”
Jungkook sighs, rubbing at his face. “I don’t remember saying I needed help with how to make out,” he points out.
Taehyung throws up his hands. “You’ve missed the point!” he exclaims in disgust. “Didn’t you see the concern in my eyes? The tenderness? Dude, I was stroking your face. That’s how it’s done!”
He snorts but the irritation is already fading, replaced by the amusement he’d had when Tae first started his shenanigans. Jungkook shakes his head, clearing his hair from his eyes, and relents a little. “Do you really think I should do it like that?” A beat. “Well, I mean, not like that. Better.”
With a grand gesture at their surroundings, Taehyung ignores the insult (or misses it, it’s hard to tell with Tae sometimes) and tells him, “You’re already doing better. You’ve got her a painting from an artist she loves.” He stops, points to himself. “Courtesy of your friendly neighbourhood art dealer, who sacrificed his Christmas night and drove all this way to make sure you got it. Plus, there’s the big news – she’s going to lose her mind when you tell her. Anyways, yeah, Koo, I’m pretty sure she’s gonna forgive you, even if you don’t use my sweet moves.”
“But I still don’t know what to say.” Jungkook hates how whiny his voice sounds, how uncertain. At the same time, it feels… good, to admit how he hasn’t got a clue how to make up with you. Or– That isn’t quite right. He does know, somewhere in his gut, in the palms of his hands, in the way his lips ache to skim along your skin. It’s just turning that feeling into words that’s struck him dumb.
“Dude, say what’s in your heart.” There is no one in the world but Taehyung who could say that earnestly and not sound like a weirdo, yet there the other man is, mouth set solemnly, somehow almost making sense. “You love her, you’re sorry for what’s happened, you want to hear her opinion, you’re working to make it better… Koo, you’ve told me all of that in the last half an hour. Now you just need to say it to her.”
“But what if…” He can’t even put it into words, the fear and uncertainty and guilt. Is he asking too much of you? Does he even deserve to ask anything? And what if… what if…
Reading him like a book, Taehyung smiles, simple and brilliant. “She’s going to forgive you. You’ve already forgiven her, so what else is there? Just the getting it done.” Still Jungkook hesitates, and his childhood friend says, a little more gently, “You’re a good person, Koo. I know that, and she does too. Talk to her. You won’t regret it.”
He hangs his head, slowly running his fingers against each other, exploring their lines like they might lead him to the courage he’s searching for. The call with you this afternoon had – shaken him. Although Jungkook had been aware – painfully so – that the two of you weren’t spending enough time together, he hadn’t realized how much it was harming you, and your anger had been both shocking and hurtful. Work had just sucked, so much, and to have you yelling at him…
But after the initial defensive reaction, he couldn’t get the thought of you sitting alone out of his head. It was never his intention to leave you for the whole day, but when he broached the subject of leaving with the boss, the look he got on his face, the way he said, “Well, of course, since I assume you’re done everything you were assigned,” had just been…
You still shouldn’t have left her. Jungkook knows that, knows equally that he didn’t have all that much of a choice if he didn’t want to get fired. It was the balancing act between those understandings that had his shoulders hunched, his cheek fair game to be chewed on. He was working on changing the situation – Namjoon and Yoongi were helping – but what if you thought it wasn’t fast enough? What if you decided you had enough? How can he bear to face you with that possibility on the horizon?
Taehyung gives him space, just hums under his breath and wanders a little, examining the various pieces on display. The Golden Closet Gallery isn’t one of his usual haunts – he tends to deal with artists further up north – but he’d come at Jungkook’s hesitant request, with an alacrity that still has Jungkook wondering what he’d done to deserve such a friend.
He’d had his eye on your favourite local artist’s website, and when the painting went on sale, he’d known he had to get it. However, Projeck employees didn’t get paid until the 20th, and by the time he had enough money to comfortably purchase it, the artist wasn’t available on short notice and wouldn’t have been around to give it to him until after New Year’s Eve. Taehyung is well known in the community, though, and the painter had had no qualms letting him deal with establishing the price and then handing the piece over. It was practically a miracle, even if Tae had only been able to slip away from his family on Christmas afternoon.
Eventually, with Taehyung’s deep baritone hum a soothing presence, Jungkook tamps his fear down. Gets it to a manageable level. At the end of the day – Taehyung is right. He loves you, more than anything, more than he thought he could love anyone. That’s enough. It has to be enough.
He looks up, clears his throat. “Thanks, TaeTae,��� Jungkook says quietly. “I really couldn’t have done this without you.”
His friend beams. “Nah, you couldn’t have. But what else are friends for, right?”
“I’ll get you an early release copy of Urban Anonymous. I think you’ll like it,” he promises. “But in the meantime… I think I’ve got someone to, uh, speak my heart to.” For half a second Jungkook thinks he’s about to die from the sheer cringe of saying that, a blush flooding across his cheeks, but at the same time – it feels kinda good to say. Goofily so, and very embarrassing, but still.
If anything, Taehyung’s beam intensifies. “Then my job here is done! I should hit the road anyways, I wanna get back home. I promised my parents I’d make them something nice for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Sure you don’t wanna stay over?” Glancing out the window, taking in how dark it is, Jungkook feels bad to be sending Taehyung out on the road at this time.
The other man snickers. “And get in the way of a beautiful thing? Nah. Besides, you know I like driving at night, and it’s only a little over three hours. I’ll be fine.”
“If you say so…” Jungkook snags the painting off of the floor, and together they walk through the Gallery, to the doors Taehyung had locked behind them when they entered. He unlocks them now, and they leave the aesthetically pleasing space, spilling out into the chilly night air. As Taehyung locks up, Jungkook glances around, breathing in deeply. Now that he’s resolved himself, he actually feels – a little better. Steadier, as though his world isn’t about to jerk out from underneath his feet.
Their cars are parked together, and once there Taehyung flings himself at Jungkook – scrupulously avoiding hitting into the painting, of course – and they hug, Jungkook staggering under the weight of his friend. The fond affection is a fluffy, sleepy thing, and, with one hand wrapped around Taehyung’s shoulders, Jungkook repeats, “Thank you, TaeTae.” It’s not eloquent, but with Taehyung, it’s enough.
They break apart, and Taehyung is grinning, a wide, boxy affair that has the nostalgia and warmth growing. “I’ve missed you, Koo. I’m glad we got to meet up. Tell Y/N that I miss her too, okay? And that I wish her a Merry Christmas.”
“We’ll have to get together again soon; Y/N will be disappointed she missed you. Although I know she loved your blue hair, so she’ll probably be sad you changed it.” It had even surprised Jungkook a bit when Tae had first ducked out of his car. The blue had just been so… riveting, and compared to that, the darker tone really changes how he looks. Not to mention that Tae went with a curlier style this time around.
Taehyung runs a hand through his fluffy brown locks before shrugging. “I got bored. Besides, I haven’t had brown in, what? Five years? It was a nice change.”
“It’s a good look. Almost as good as mine,” Jungkook teases, and Taehyung laughs in his deep, rolling way. “Okay. Merry Christmas, TaeTae. And have a Happy New Year! Don’t drive into a ditch, but if you do, call me.”
“I’ll get you to drag the car out by yourself,” Taehyung agrees amiably. “You look like you could manage it these days, and it’d save me the cost of the tow-truck.”
He gives Jungkook’s upper arm a cheerful poke, whistles in exaggerated admiration and then dodges Jungkook’s swipe at him. “See you soon, Koo! I’ll send you a text when I get home. Hopefully you’ll be too busy to read it until tomorrow.” And with a wicked little giggle, he gets into his car.
“Bye, Tae! See you! Thank you!” Jungkook waves until the other man has pulled away, blasting an R&B version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, and then he gets into his own car. Being with Tae is like inhaling a warmer version of helium, all uplift and expansion. It suddenly occurs to Jungkook, with a little jolt, that he’s excited to get home.
No matter how scared he is, scared of the future and scared of the conversation ahead, picturing you, thinking of walking into the apartment and seeing your face, is enough to drive a sharp spike of joy through his trepidation. You are the best thing in his life, and even with this fight, even with the hurt still nestled against his ribs, he wouldn’t have drawn it any other way.
It’s as he’s starting the car that he realizes he got a text from Namjoon and didn’t notice. Hey Jungkookie. Can you let Y/N know we have her phone? She left it in the car.
He stares at the words, waiting for the moment when they’ll make sense. When sense is not forthcoming despite scrambling his brains for what it could mean, Jungkook types out a reply, his fingers sweaty with sudden anxiety.
what car? you saw Y/N today?
…Yeah? We dropped her off at the Gallery. Did she not mention it?
at the gallery?? when?
His heart is in his throat, the unease ricocheting to unprecedented levels, and Jungkook shoves open the car door, begins looking desperately around like you two could have possibly missed each other in the empty lot. When his phone vibrates thirty seconds later, he almost drops it in his haste to unlock it.
Thirty minutes ago. Around there. Is she not there? Is everything okay?
Jungkook rips his eyes from the screen to the empty parking lot and back to the screen, a bewildered trek that gives him no hints, and he doesn’t know the answer.
---
When you finally get back to the apartment, your hurt has become a cramped, flattened pressure at the back of your throat, and every breath scrapes painfully on the way out. It’s taken you close to two hours to get back. The first person you’d asked for directions had given you the wrong bus number, and while you’d realized it eventually, you’d been going the wrong way for a significant period of time.
Usually, you and Jungkook laugh at how bad your sense of direction is, but this is just more humiliation to stoke an already raging fire of shame. Your steps literally drag – you almost trip on your way up the stairs – and your fingers are tingling, almost numb. It’s gotten progressively colder as the night wore on, and by now the icy feeling has sunk deep into your bones, passed the hard exterior until its wrapped around the marrow.
You’d thought about checking into a hotel. You at least hadn’t forgotten or lost your credit card. There was something tempting about postponing the moment when you had to see Jungkook. But at the same time… If you didn’t answer your phone and didn’t come back, he might worry (would he worry?) and worse, he might get other people involved. What if he talked to Namjoon and Yoongi? Or phoned your parents or brother? You can’t stand the thought of having to explain to them what happened without any preparation – without even knowing what happened yourself.
So here you are, facing the door, empty-handed. You’d thrown out the fast-food at the first trashcan you’d come to after deciding to return. Would Jungkook be home by now? Had he finished with – was he done? Or was he still out there, still… You have to say it eventually, you try to tell yourself firmly, but your whole being cringes from making that acknowledgement, from putting it into syllables that might somehow trap it in reality. It’s not something you can manage tonight. You really don’t know what will be worse, him being inside or not, but you can’t just stand outside forever.
Forcing the key to the lock is no harder than flinging yourself off a cliff, and you approach it with the same amount of dry-mouth apprehension. Your hands are shaking so bad it’s hard to get them to align, but when you finally do, the click of the key sliding in is too loud, like its announcing that you’ve slunk back in shame to all of the apartment building inhabitants. A ridiculous notion, but you flinch anyways, heart seizing as your stiff fingers fumble with the little jiggle required to get the door to open. It takes you three attempts, your anxiety growing, and when you finally manage it, you’re so strung out with tension that you don’t hesitate. You just fling the door open and stumble through.
Straight into Jungkook.
For just a second, it feels like the magnetism you learned about in school. For just a second you fall into him like there’s nothing else in the world more natural than falling, and for just a second you press against his chest and feel dizzy with the light, clean scent that surrounds you. For just a second, as he catches your weight and closes his arms around you, calling your name with a voice of choked relief, you let yourself forget.
For just a second.
And then reality floods back in, a tainted torrent of regret and grief, strewn with rage and humiliation that drifts just below the surface. Though you’re so unsteady you can barely see, your lungs blocked and battling to heave in enough air just to keep breathing, you struggle to get away from him.
“Let go of me,” you say, dry and curt, and when his arms only tighten – more, you suspect, to keep you from pitching over than in denial of your demand – your efforts become harsher, more violent. Without room you can’t get any momentum to really push away from him, but your motions are frantic with the desire to do just that. There’s a panicked, screaming need to get away from him, to get enough space, like he’s the reason your lungs are crumpling in on themselves. “Let go, Jungkook!” you cry, your voice spiking up into shrillness, shattering the syllables of his name.
Like he’s been electrified, Jungkook jerks, his arms flying open. Instantly, let loose, you scramble away, down the entrance hallway. Just as off balance as he’d feared, you nearly trip over something long and cumbersome leaning against the wall that you’re too distraught to look at, and you have to windmill to catch your balance. A moment later you slam your shoulder into the corner of the wall as you try to take the turn too sharply. “Y/N, please, stop!” you hear, and wish you hadn’t. Barely registering the sharp throb in your shoulder, you catch yourself and keep going. Seconds later you’re in the bedroom, and you slam the door shut.
It doesn’t have a lock. Putting your back to the door, your air rattling hollowly out of your mouth – too fast, too shallow, but you can’t seem to calm down – you slide down the solid surface. Pulling your knees to your chest, you rest your forehead against them, eyes tightly closed, still gasping. Your eyes are aching, but you can’t cry against the immense pressure of overwhelming panic. There’s just a stinging sensation and a pulsing rigidity in your face, like each and every muscle there has chosen to stage a personal rebellion at the exact same time.
I can’t, I can’t, oh God, please, I can’t do this I can’t look at him I can’t I –
“Y/N?” Jungkook sounds like he’s directly on the other side of the door, but he makes no attempt to open it. “Baby, please, are you okay?”
His voice is so raw with worry that it’s red. The colour blooms across your closed eyelids, swathes of crimson and scarlet, and you imagine that it’s blood, trickling from the wound inside of you. You can barely tell where your back ends and the door begins, like any moment you might slide through it, or maybe through the floor, or through the ground, or maybe you’re already there, floating in nothing, and the red breaks into jagged pieces of black and orange and you still can’t breathe.
“Y/N? Can you talk to me? Just – say something, okay? Just so I know you’re okay.”
You can’t even manage that. Even if you wanted to. Even if he deserved to know. Throat moving convulsively, you choke out a sob but nothing else comes after. Just wheezing breaths, and you think you’re shaking but you’re somewhere outside of your skin so it’s hard to tell.
“Okay, okay. I’m – I’m gonna be here, okay? Right here. If you need me, I’m here.” Even through the hazy distortion swamping you, Jungkook’s clear, resonant voice comes through. Maybe it’s the concern, too heavy to be swept away by the raging panic. Maybe it’s the compassion, too anchored in you to be broken away by the tremendous pressure.
Or maybe you just know Jungkook’s voice so well that even your disassociation can’t make it unfamiliar to you.
“You’re doing good, Y/N. I’m still here. Just on the other side of this door.” A pause, a deep chasm of silence, and then he continues. “I think it’s a panic attack. I know it’s scary, but it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Later, you will be both annoyed and touched that Jungkook realized you were having a panic attack before you did. You’ve had a few throughout university, but none within the past year or two, and in the moment, you’d been too overwhelmed to identify what’s going on. The insight is helpful though, something to cling to and repeat to yourself. A grounding. It’s a panic attack. You’re going to be okay.
Jungkook keeps talking, slow and steady. Nothing serious. Just words. You lean on his voice just as hard as you’re leaning on the door, and, slowly but surely, in a stretch of time that doesn’t mean anything to you, the constrictive bands across your chest loosen. You sink back into yourself. The tips of your fingers make sense again.
And you start crying.
“Y/N? How’re you feeling?”
Funny. Now, with your throat something other than a fist and pain, you still struggle to say anything. This is a softer kind of crying, not quite quiet, with little, hiccupping gasps as the tears run down your face. Possible to speak through. You just don’t know what to say to the man who just talked you, with kindness and compassion, through a panic attack. Who cheated on you. Your fingertips might make sense, but nothing else does.
“I – Y/N, baby, I get that you’re upset, but I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.” So anguished. Why did he have to sound like that? What right did he have?
You don’t know if it’s outrage or bewilderment or grief or pity that has you answering. Is it possible to have all of them in your mouth, gritty across your tongue? At any rate, your tone is as washed out as you feel, fatigued and grey. “I saw, Jungkook,” you whisper to your knees.
There’s silence on the other side of the door. Denial? Guilt? His reply is sluggish, thick with confusion. “You saw what?”
That makes you laugh – or not really, though the tortured sound was supposed to be one. “I was there. At the Golden Closet Gallery.” Will he really keep pretending after he knows you were there? Could he really be that brazen? The Jungkook you know couldn’t. There’s no way he could carry a lie like that, holding it effortlessly in the face of the truth. The Jungkook you know would blush, shuffle, collapse like a house of cards. He’s really not good at lying.
The answer isn’t a lie, but it confuses you all the same. “I know you were. Namjoon texted me to say he’d dropped you off, but – Where did you go? I – I drove around for like an hour trying to find you, and I couldn’t and when I got home you weren’t here…” The stream of words dies out like Jungkook can’t quite find any more to say, or maybe he’s embarrassed to say them.
When your reply isn’t forthcoming, confusion churning up anything you might spit out, he continues, more subdued. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to push you after what you just went through, I just– Are– How are you feeling? Was it – did something happen while you were getting here? Is that what took so long?” Another pause that you can’t fill, that stretches on and on as you try to understand what he’s talking about. How he can apologize for that and not the actual offense.
Abruptly his voice bursts out. “Why won’t you talk to me!?” Tighter and more uncertain than you’ve heard tonight. Maybe more afraid than you’ve ever heard him.
It rips at your heart, and you realize in a swell of furious sorrow that you can’t stand to hear him sound like that. With a sudden, unstable surge, you get to your feet. Immediately your vision falters a bit, and you stagger, but catch yourself before you fall, clinging to the doorknob. You take a deep breath, fighting away the residual nausea and light-headedness. It clears within a few seconds, and your hand tightens on the knob as you take a deep breath. You can’t just leave him standing out there. You can’t just leave this incomprehensible thing hanging in the frame between your two lives.
You open the door. Slowly. Reluctantly. But you open it.
His long black hair is a wild mess, pushed back from his forehead, strands sticking up here and there. Even as you inch the door open, he runs his hand through it, ruffling it even further. His shirt is wrinkled, only partially tucked in, one sleeve rolled to bare his forearm, the other slipped down almost all the way. With his jaw so tense it’s a wonder he’s not cracking his teeth, Jungkook stares at you, lips set and pale. He doesn’t look like someone who committed a betrayal only hours before; if anything, the anguished panes of his face speak to a betrayal committed against him.
You’re so, so tired. Too tired to grasp at the outrage that wisps at the edge of your consciousness. Sniffling to clear your throat, you wipe at your face, trying make yourself a little less pitiful. “I was at the Gallery, Jungkook. I saw you,” you repeat because it’s still so hard to think of anything to say. When his expression doesn’t change – unless his eyebrows furrow, just a little, in innocent perplexity – you exhale. “I saw you with that guy. I saw you…”
“That guy? Who do you–” Jungkook breaks off, examines you more closely, like you’ve given him something to be concerned about. “Are you talking about Taehyung?”
The name is startling in its sheer unexpectedness. What the hell did Jungkook’s best friend have to do with any of this? “Taehyung? No, I’m not talking about Taehyung. I’m talking about that guy you were with tonight, in the Gallery. The guy you–” The words catch, but only for a second. You push them through with a surge of vehement exasperation for the blank expression he’s wearing. “The guy you kissed!”
In another place, the nonplused spasm across his face would have been hilarious. As it is, it just heightens your frustration, and the way he starts sputtering does absolutely nothing to reduce it. Even when he finally gets himself together and manages to talk, your aggravation is here to stay.
Right next to your mortification, as it happens.
“I didn’t– Y/N, that guy at the Gallery was Tae! Could you not tell it was him? I know he has brown hair now, but…” Jungkook shakes his head, flipping his own hair back. The tension seems to have slipped from his jaw, at least a little, and it might very well have crept into yours. “Is that– Is that what this whole thing has been about? You thought I did something with some random guy?” His lips twitch, and it doesn’t seem like he can decide if he wants to smile or scowl, and you feel the beginning of a flush heating up your face.
“It was Taehyung! And I didn’t kiss him. I mean, he tried to kiss me but it was just to–” Abruptly there’s a wash of faint scarlet crawling up his cheeks – cheeks that are rounder than they were a second ago, as he looks down and away, gaze slipping from you for the first time since you opened the door.
“Just to what?” you demand, the challenge extra belligerent to make up for the belated shock of suspended relief that hangs like smoke over your head. Too intangible for you to catch with your hands right now, though present enough to burn your throat with its sooty possibility.
He’s still looking at the ground, the blush becoming more prominent, and he begins to shift, the rustle of his dress pants loud in the fraught silence. “Um,” Jungkook begins awkwardly, head ticking to the side the way it always does when he regrets saying something or doubts his ability to do something. “It’s just, uh… he was helping me.”
“Helping you.”
Jungkook winces at your deadpan echo. “Yeah. I, um, asked him to…” Hands drumming on his thighs, drawing your attention for a second before you snap back to his flushed face, Jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet. “Uh… This is totally not how I planned this,” he mumbles, before hauling his gaze up to meet your own. “Hold on for a sec, okay? I just want to grab something.” For all that he’s definitely lightened a bit, the request is tinged with urgent appeal, his eyes scouring your face hesitantly like he’s afraid you’re going to retreat back to the room the moment he loses sight of you.
You’re not entirely sure that isn’t going to happen, but there have been so many emotional upheavals today you’ve just about exhausted your ability to feel more defensiveness. The more Jungkook speaks – the longer you’re in his presence – the more the sheer impossibility of what you’d believed is sinking in. He’s just – he’s Jungkook. Such a focal point of light and energy, such a reserve of easily offered comfort in a form so much more substantial than words. Somehow – maybe because of his prolonged absences, maybe because of your staggeringly challenging day – you’d managed to forget just what he is, but it’s in front of you now, demanding to be seen and acknowledged against the backdrop of what you’d thought. What had seemed so possible, even an hour ago, suddenly seems ridiculous when set next to the quiet solidity of him, of everything he is.
Wiping again at eyes that haven’t ceased watering yet, you nod.
He hurries away, down the short hallway and back towards the front entrance. You hear a thump, a muttered curse, a short dragging noise, and then Jungkook rounds the corner, hefting a rectangular object covered in brown paper. When you examine it more closely, you’re pretty sure it’s what you almost fell over when you ran inside. By the time he’s standing in front of you, the unwieldy item put on the ground and balanced against his knee, you’re pretty sure you know what it is by the shape and packaging alone.
And somewhere, in the back of your mind, you’re beginning to make connections. About Taehyung and the art gallery and the thing on the ground in front of you.
Jungkook just speeds up the process. “I was gonna wrap it in something nicer,” he offers apologetically, “but I was… Baby, I was so scared when Namjoon said you should have been at the gallery and I couldn’t find you and you weren’t at home. I thought – hell, I didn’t know what to think. That you got kidnapped or something.” He laughs, that shaky sound of amusement reserved for disasters that are absurd to imagine until they actually happen, and you shift, the heat crowding your face growing.
With a slight roll of his shoulders, he nudges the brown-wrapped object. “Anyways… Tae was helping me get this. For, um, you. Because I thought you might like it.” When you make no move to grab it, his eyebrows knit together. “Y/N? I swear, I didn’t do anything with anyone else. I wouldn’t do anything with–”
“I know.” You cut him off, unable to bear the imploring tone. It’s impossible to meet his beseeching gaze with the burden of your stupidity weighing on you, and you keep your eyes on your fingers. “I know you didn’t. Jungkook, I’m…” The winded feeling is still lingering, a hollowness in your lungs, and you have to inhale deeply just to remind yourself you can. Your anger at being abandoned by Jungkook for work died out so long ago it might as well be a relic, and with the betrayed grief swept so thoroughly out of your stomach, you’re left feeling strangely empty of anything but guilt.
“I’m so sorry. I – God, I’m so stupid. I saw you two and I thought – I assumed…” All of the logic that had founded your incorrect assumption is trickling through your grasping fingers, and you don’t know how to explain in a way that makes sense. In a way that justifies how you’d leapt to conclusions.
“I’m sorry,” you continue unevenly. “I just…”
“It’s okay.” When you keep staring down, Jungkook moves closer, reaches out, tentatively puts his arm around you. Light enough that you could break away if you wanted to. You don’t. You absolutely don’t.
The contact feels like an anchor, pulling you ever closer to reality. Making the trembling relief that much more real. The embarrassment, too. “Really Y/N, it’s – I know today has been…” After a moment he sighs, faint and low, shaking his head. “Today has sucked so bad, and Christmas isn’t supposed to be like this. I get why you thought what you did. After everything that’s been happening, after I’ve – I haven’t been around.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” is your whispered protest, still unable to look at him. “I should have just talked to you.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that would have saved us both a bit of panic. But Y/N…” He waits, waits longer, until you’re forced to bring your eyes up. Meeting the dark softness of his gaze summons up more guilt, more regret – but also a clear, undeniable relief. Light at the end of a pitch black tunnel. You’re not out of the darkness, but with those sympathetic eyes on you, you have a sense of striving. Like taking a step, and then another, is possible. And might just be worth it.
“Y/N, baby, it’s not all your fault. It’s on me too.” His arms are resting lightly on your shoulders, fingers gently rubbing across the nape of your neck. “I haven’t talked with you enough. Kept just pushing it off, pretending it’s okay.” When he laughs softly, his breath tickles your face. “Not quite okay, hey?”
Your strained giggle isn’t heartfelt, and it fades quickly. “In the car, when Namjoon and Yoongi gave me a ride, they said – It seems like work has really, really sucked. More than I thought it did.” You lean back, just a bit, his arms a steady support against your back, and search his face. He’s biting his cheek, little lines skittering across his forehead. This close, the dark circles under his eyes are more pronounced, his skin sallower than it should be. He looks tired, but he doesn’t look away from you.
“Jungkook,” you say quietly. “How bad is it?”
Something flickers behind his eyes, a shadow of his normal reserve. You can feel the tightness in his body, the slight tremor that suggests he’s about to move away. The protective distance he clings to when he doesn’t want to worry you rears up – and you kill it with your hand, trembling only slightly as you tenderly trace your fingers along his temple, down his cheekbone, to cup the strong lines of his jaw. “Please, Jungkook. Tell me.”
The admission comes, fast and breathless, like he needs to get the words out before his teeth clench over them. “Bad. It’s bad. I hate it there.”
“Oh. I–” This is a different kind of pain from most of what you’ve been feeling today. More selfless, an anguish that extends and expands outward instead of curling up. “I’m so sorry. Kookie, I didn’t know. I should have but–”
“I didn’t tell you. How could you know?”
“I should have,” you insist.
His mouth quirks, a flash of teeth showing in mild amusement. “You can’t expect me to know you’re upset, but you should know when I am? I don’t think it works that way, babe.” When your mouth opens to object, Jungkook pulls you to his chest, cutting off your protest. You sink into his embrace, boneless and aching and grateful for the support, and if the gift’s hard frame weren’t digging into your leg, it would almost be perfect.
Perfect enough.
Pressing your face against his shirt, you feel him kiss the top of your head, arms still wrapped firmly around your shoulders. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispers.
“I’m glad you told me about work,” you mumble into his chest, reluctant to draw away. “If I told you to quit today, would you?” You’re not really joking, even though you know what the immediate answer has to be. You don’t have enough savings for one of you to quit without any other prospects lined up.
“Actually…” There’s something restrained in his voice, teetering on the edge of anxiety, or maybe excitement.
Shock has you looking up, resisting the comforting pull of his warmth for a moment. “You did!?”
“Oh, uh, no,” Jungkook says hurriedly, biting at his lower lip. Far from pleasure, the reassurance has disappointment funneling into your heart, funds be damned. To say that Jungkook’s job was the mother of all evils would probably be both unfair and exaggerated, but if it’s making him (and you) as miserable as he says...
“It sounds really bad, Jungkook. Killing yourself trying to please a bunch of jerks isn’t worth it.”
“You’re right.” He’s smiling now, smiling completely, showing off his teeth. “I don’t know if I can keep working for them for much longer, but… Ah, I was so scared to talk about this, and here you are, making it easy!” In his excitement, he’s playing with your hair, hands restless as they dance around. For once, the mystery isn’t extended. “Namjoon wants to break off. Start a new company, one that’s not an absolute dumpster fire to work for. He’s got several other people lined up who are happy to go, and Yoongi, obviously, and he asked me if I would join, too!”
“Is that why they gave me a ride?” Even as you demand it, you can feel yourself picking up on Jungkook’s energy. Not too much – the exhaustion sucking at your bones won’t allow it – but still, the lightness in your chest is a far cry from the sodden despair that’s taken up space there for most of the day.
Your boyfriend jiggles his head back and forth. “I dunno. Maybe. But I think mostly they did it because they’re pretty nice people.” He sounds a bit awed as he continues. “We can’t start for a couple more months – Namjoon said something about getting funding from some rich guy, Bang Sihyuk – but I still can’t believe they want me to come along. I mean, some of the people are, like, the best there are, Y/N.” You can almost see stars shining in his eyes.
Your response is firm, albeit playful. “So, it makes perfect sense that they’re having you join! Kookie, you’re gonna fit in so well, because you’re one of the best, too.” And honestly, you’re not even just shovelling empty praise; Jungkook is a truly talented artist in his medium.
His smile grows, eyes thinning with happiness. “And – you’re okay with it? There aren’t any guarantees that it will work out, with it being a new company.”
The trials of the day – mostly made from your own mind, though no less difficult for all of that – pass through your head. The loneliness and anger and sadness. All of it dimmed if not gone entirely, simply because here you are in his arms, speaking to each other instead of covering your hurt up. “Jungkook, one of the few guarantees I have of anything is that I love you, and you love me. If you’ll be happy working with Namjoon, with moving companies, then that’s all I need to hear.”
With a low hum, Jungkook sweeps you into another hug, and you’re glad to give up what space is between you two. Enfolded in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat, is about the securest place you can imagine being. “I love you,” he says, voice thick with the truth of what he’s saying.
“I love you, too. Thank you. Thank you so much for everything.”
“I haven’t even given you your presents yet. Here –” And you’re breaking apart again – although not really, because you can still feel the connection as a thin warmth snuggled beneath your ribs – and Jungkook bends down, picks up the item sandwiched between you two. “Feel up to opening it?”
“The mystery gift that almost broke our relationship? Yeah, I’m up to it.”
Nose scrunching, he hands it over, and in your haste to see what’s inside, you make short work of the brown packaging. You can’t honestly say you’re surprised with the first glimpse of the mahogany frame – you expected a painting – but as more of the brown rips away, you feel shivery awe cascading down your spine. Once the painting is completely uncovered, you clutch it with sweaty palms, well aware of how precious a gift you’ve been given. You’d recognize the style anywhere.
“Jungkook,” you breathe, “oh my God, Jungkook, this is one of Ayeong’s, isn’t it? You – you actually got one of her paintings!?”
The quality is unmistakable. It’s a detailed piece, zoomed in on a small, dilapidated house. Almost everything about the house is bleak; the colours are all dull greys, blacks and browns, the porch is crumbling, and the shutters over the windows are chipped and cracked in places. However, right in the center of the house, taking up a good portion of the painting, is a door flung wide open, and the inside is flooded with warm colours and details in stark contrast with the exterior. There are people inside, crowded around the entrance, laughing and vibrant, and they dominate the doorway with their collective presence. One person, the only one who is looking outward, has her hand raised in greeting, as though inviting the viewers in.
“It’s called Homecoming.”
Soft and reverent, the name feels like an echo, a reverberation of your hopes and fears, and against a suddenly blurry vision, you smile. “It’s beautiful! It’s so, so beautiful. Thank you, Jungkook.”
“Do you feel like opening the rest of our presents? Or should we wait until tomorrow? We can grab your phone in the morning, too.”
Your fatigue drags at you, overwhelming even your hunger, but you try to rally, lifting your chin up. “What do you want to do? Do you want to open a present?”
His head tilts as he looks you over, a quick assessment. “I don’t have to. It’ll be nice to look forward to it later.” You’re absolutely positive he’s saying that for your sake, and it makes you just that closer to crying in gratitude for what’s in front of you.
Swallowing hard, you suggest, “How about tomorrow, then? We can…” You pause, scrambling for the memory, and then grin tiredly. “We can reset. Start over tomorrow.”
Jungkook’s laugh washes over you in cozy tides of amusement. “Now there’s a great idea. Whoever thought of it is a genius.”
With a chuckle, you carefully set the painting to the side, planning on figuring out where to put it tomorrow. As soon as it leaves your hands, Jungkook is there again, claiming the free territory. His grip firm and warm, he asks you, “Do you wanna eat? Or maybe nap for a bit?”
Your panic attacks always leave you drained, and the fact that Jungkook remembers is just another fond ache to add to the collection in your chest. “Nap,” you reply gratefully. “But… do you wanna lie down with me? Just for a bit?”
He couldn’t have looked any more solemn, or any more beautiful, if he’d tried. Squeezing your hand, he says, “I’d lie with you forever, if I could get away with it.” A second later the somber façade breaks apart, leaving a blush and a squirming, quietly giggly Jungkook.
With a snort, you pull him along with you, into the bedroom, a tightness across your chest that has everything to do with just how much you love the man next to you. “Now I know you were with Taehyung.” That makes you remember, and as you both walk to the bed, you glance at him, narrowing your eyes. “Are you going to tell me what Taehyung almost kissing you had to do with helping you out?”
As expected, his blush grows, painting his cheeks with a pale pink, but he surprises you by pulling you closer. With a hand under your chin, the other arm wrapped around your waist, he tilts your head up. Meeting your eyes with a tenderness that floods you with reassurance, he brushes a thumb along your lips, leaving a tingling trail. When it comes, his voice is hoarser than before, firmer. “He was trying to teach me something I already know.”
And then his mouth is on yours, steady and certain. Your lips soften against him, and time becomes languid, moving by the count of each breath that flutters against your lips. Jungkook isn’t demanding, not tonight; he kisses you sweetly, gently, conveying everything that he hasn’t managed to put into words. His body has a gravitational pull all its own, drawing you closer, and you skim your hands against his back, relishing the powerful certainty of his shoulders and the intimate confidence of his mouth on yours.
A second later, he sweeps you off your feet, and you gasp in surprise, breaking off the kiss. Jungkook places you on the bed, stands looking down at you with unmasked adoration. You open your arms, a wordless invitation that unwittingly bares the front of your top. His eyes fix on it, and if anything, they soften.
“I like your sweater,” he comments quietly, and as you laugh, he climbs onto the bed with you.
You take off the sweater in question, and your jeans and bra, easy and unhesitant in his presence. He follows suit, and then grabs your pajamas, placed as they always are at the foot of the bed. You wiggle into them, and for his part, Jungkook just throws on a pair of loose pants. The feeling of familiarity sinks into your system like a sigh of contentment, and when he pulls you against his chest, you snuggle into the embrace.
Wrapped in his arms, the smooth warmth of his skin pressed against your cheek, you let the drowsy bliss sweep over your body, and you relax, sinking against the sheets even as you curl closer to him.
Jungkook’s voice ripples against your mind, a soothing undercurrent taking you closer to sleep. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Merry Christmas,” you mumble. With one last faltering effort, you say, “Jungkook?”
“Hmm?” You feel the inquiring murmur just as much as you hear it, a smooth hum on your cheek.
“Thank you for coming home.”
#thebtswritersclub#networkbangtan#jungkook x reader#jungkook#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#bts fic#bts fanfiction#my fic
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Anonymous asked: Hello! Can you do a Harryxfem! Reader where people see how Harry looks at the reader (calorie challenge- rematch (time stamp 27:17)) and the reader is so oblivious to Harry’s feeling for her because he broke up with his long-term ex last fall and she doesn’t want to read deep into it and just keeps telling people that they’re just friends even though everyone can see past the bull crap and keeps shipping them because they’re very similar and meant to be and after months of Harry pinning after her he tries to move on and go on dates (which fails but she doesn’t know that it’s not working out for him ) so she starts seeing someone and magically somehow end up together and become the “it” couple because of how blunt and honest they are. Sorry that was long! Hope you can write it thanks!
A/N Good gosh this is a long one. I hope you enjoy! Requests are open
Sitting on the sofa next to Cal, snuggled in a mountain of blankets in Harrys apartment whilst the boys filmed a video was always fun. They were filming the 100,000 calorie challenge and it was JJ, Vik , Cal and Harrys turn to be eating the calories. We were sat watching JJ as he revealed he had absolutely failed the challenge to everyones surprise. The boys all started to complain as I giggled at the failure which was JJ right now. I felt a slight nudge on my side and Cal not so discreetly nodding towards Harry, I looked over at him and smiled but he averted his gaze from me and buried his head into the massive bear still complaining at JJ as it was revealed he had messed up the challenge even more by starting before the official time.
After JJ’s little mess up they decided to make the fried mars bars, and I feel as though even saying it is cause for disaster. The boys were all crowded around the counter, just making a mess really, not much surprise there. I was happy in my own little world scrolling through instagram with the boys chatter in the background when I started to smell something burning and a mass amount of smoke from the boys. “Oh my god you idiots” I said matter of factly before grabbing the pan and holding it out the window, not wanting the apartment to stink of burnt mars bars as the guys tried to switch off the fire alarm.
Once everything had calmed down I started to clean up as the boys ate the left over chocolates. “ you don’t have to clean up Y/N” Harry said to me as he bought over a plate to the sink. “Its ok I don’t mind, something to do at least” I smiled up at him. “You sure? I feel bad” he said scratching his shoulder and giving me an awkward smile. “I’m sure, go enjoy your food” I giggled pushing the boy away from me slightly. I finished up the washing as the boys chatted over their takeaways trying to figure out how many calories they were up to. I popped the remaining dishes in the dish washer and popped it on for the boys.
Once they had finished Cal and I bid the boys goodbye and hoped in an Uber, we lived in the same apartment complex so it made sense that we shared rides just about everywhere. “Soooo” cal started tapping his his legs to the beat of the song that the Uber driver had popped on for us. i gave him a questioning glance as I sent my text to Harry, informing him I had popped the dish washer on and for him not to forget about it. “When are you two finally going to get together” Cal said peering over my shoulder and trying to take a peek at my texts with Harry. I just scoffed switching off my phone and turning my head to look at Cal. “Look he got out of a long term relationship not even six months ago, he just needs a friend right now, and that’s all I am, a friend, plus even if he hadn’t just gotten out of a relationship, well I don’t think he’d be interested in me anyway, like I said I’m just a friend” I shrugged to Cal giving him a half smile trying to cover the sadness which was evident on my face. “I don’t know Y/N if you ask me, or well any of the lads he looks at you like your a gift here gracing us all with your presence. like your some type of angel, he likes you, he really does, he’s just scared to ruin what you have” Cal stated as we hoped out the uber and made our ways into the lift. “Well I don’t want to sound rude, but I didn’t ask Cal, I don’t need my hopes being brought up just for it all to be speculation.” I stated matter of factly. “This is me, I’ll see you later yh?” I questioned Cal who just pursed his lips and nodded to me giving a small see ya.
I really wasn’t trying to be rude but I had had my heartbroken so many times, and I don’t want to start getting my hopes up about Harry if it is just all speculation and some sort of narrative the lads were making up for themselves. I slumped down on my bed and posted a selfie on instagram asking people what they want to know about me. I wasn’t a huge YouTuber but I did have a large instagram following meaning the questions flooded in within an instant. There was the usual that I answered such as my favourite colour, what am I having for dinner, best place I had ever visited and so on. After a few more generic questions someone asked what my favourite picture was. I scrolled through my camera roll and found one of Harry and I at winter wonderland. we were both wearing Santa hats and he was giving me a piggy bag as I held onto a large teddy he had won me moments before. I captioned it ‘Christmas with my Bestfriend, look at how goofy he looks @wroetoshaw’ I giggled as I posted the pic remembering that day. it was a rare day off for the both of us and with Harrys break up still fresh I decided we should go to Winter Wonderland and just have fun. Which we did, it was one of my most treasured memories with him. He had taken his breakup so hard that I felt it was important that he had a friend around who could take the crying and emotions, someone to just cuddle with and forget about the world. And over the past few months I realised that my feelings for Harry had grown, but he was still hurting and there was no way that I was being any boys re-bound.
I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to blaring light through the blinds of my lounge. I groaned to myself before getting up and trudging to my bedroom to sort myself out. i looked at my phone and I had a few texts from Harry. I smiled as I read them.
‘Thank you! Almost forgot, you are honestly the best Xx’
‘You alive???? Xx’
‘Good night Xx’
‘Like the insta pic’
I furrowed my eyebrows at the last text. It was sent only minutes after the goodnight text and it didn’t have any of the kisses we usually put on the end of our texts to each other. I also hadn’t got a good morning text from Harry, that was particularly strange because I have always gotten a Good morning and Good night text from him for the past few months with out fail. I just shrugged it off before replying,
‘Haha no problem! I fell asleep as soon as I got home I’m sorry :( wanna meet up later? Xx’
I smiled at my reply before going to my bedroom and changing to look more presentable. I checked my phone and it was almost lunch meaning Cal was coming over to film a video with me. just as I re adjusted my hair for the a millionth time I heard a knock on the door signalling that cal was here. “Hello stranger” I smiled letting him into my apartment with the array of crisps and snacks he had in his arms. We were filming a British corner shop mukbang whilst answering twitter questions. As Cal settled himself in my studio I helped by opening the array of snacks and cans of drink that he had bought for us. “Hey really weird question but have you heard from Harry today?” I questioned trying not to sound so desperate as to the whereabouts of the boy. “Uh yh messaging me all morning, think he’s got something on tonight. He not told you?” Cal looked up from the array of junk raising his eyebrows at me as I just shook my head in disbelief that he was ignoring me. As we settled in our seats and I turned the camera on I sent Harry a quick text.
‘Hey have I done something wrong?? :( Xx’
The video was going amazing. Cal and I just naturally bounced off of each other and the questions the fans were giving us were quite juicy. “Alright, alright, I’ve got one. Y/N has Harry asked you out yet or is he still being a melt? From @CalFreezy” I giggled at the question and raised my eyebrows at Cal. “These are meant to be from Fans” I retorted to Cal telling him off a little. “Yh Freezy is your biggest fan he’s always nattering on about you and talking about you moving in with them when Harry gets the guts” Cal defended himself causing me to burst out laughing. “Well we all know Harry and I are friends, I love him very much but that’s as deep as it goes” I replied to Cals previous question from Freezy, slight sadness barely evident in my voice. “Is that the only thing that goes deep” Cal stated before bursting out laughing at himself and falling back in his chair ultimately falling off of it causing me to laugh. “Well that’s it for today guys thank you for watching and thanks to this idiot for joining me” I smiled at the camera before shutting it off and helping Cal from the floor.
“You really need to stop that you know? You can’t force anything to happen” I said matter of factly towards cal as he nibbled on some Pringles. “You see Y/N I’m actually Cal from the future and I’m just stating facts” he gave me a cheesy grin as I tutted at him and rolled my eyes. I was taken out of my trance by a text from my phone. “Alright ditch me for lover boy” Cal called after me. I opened my phone to see it was from Harry but it wasn’t what I was expecting.
‘Hey Y/N, we shouldn’t hang out anymore it makes Belle uncomfortable.’
“Cal what the fuck is this” I shouted to my friend. I heard the thudding of his feet and turned around to show him the message I had just received. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Belle Belle Belle Oh Belle, her really?” Cal scrunched his nose up at me. “Ummm elaborate, who’s Belle?” I pressed for him to release more info to me. “Oh Harry went on a date with her like three weeks ago, looks like it worked out, well for them I guess” Cal shrugged piecing the different parts of the puzzle together for me. “Oh, wow, so he is just gonna drop me like that, like I’m, I’m nothing, like i wasn’t the one there for him when he was mourning over his last breakup. Well that’s a kick in the teeth” I said starting to sniffle, tears threatening to break their way out of my eyes and my mood instantly dropping to nothing. “Hey no don’t cry” Cal said engulfing me in a hug, which I gladly melted into. “If he couldn’t see what he had with you then that boy is more blind than we all thought.” Cal reassured me rubbing my back. “Plus your make up looks too nice to cry it off” Cal said catching a stray tear from my face and making me giggle a little. “Oh Cal why can’t we fall in love?” I questioned sniffing and straightening out my clothes. “Because that would be like fucking my sister and that’s weird” Cal stated making me giggle.
I don’t think anyone could quite get their heads wrapped around the fact that Harry was with someone new, especially because that someone was not me. For the next month I got fans tweeting me asking if Harry and I had broken up or if he had gone crazy. I also got sorry looks from my friends. Always being placed in the furthest seat away from Harry, always given excuses as to why I couldn’t come to shoots. It sucked majorly. And the worst part about all of this is everyone felt like they had to tread on eggshells around me, as if I wasn’t a fully grown woman who could handle these situations.
I knocked on Simons apartment door before he opened it replying to someone about something. “Oh Y/N you alright” he said quickly closing the door a little. “Yh Talia said I could pop round and grab my camera that she borrowed.” I said smiling at the lanky man. “Oh yh well um come in, just be careful yh” Simon nodded at me. I furrowed my eyebrows and just nodded at his comment following him through to the living room. And as soon as I saw the tall figure sat next to Harry with an unimpressed look on her face I realised why Simon gave me such a warning. “Heyyyy Y/N Is here” Ethan called standing up giving me a hug making me giggle a little. “Yh Talia knicked my camera again” I stated smiling at the girl who blushed a little realising she still hadn’t returned my device. “Oh so that’s Y/N” a snotty voice said causing everyone to quiet down and all eyes turning in her direction. “Yup, the one and only” I smiled back at her trying to be as nice as possible. “Belle right? Nice to meet you” I smiled back at her trying to make conversation in the silent room. I rocked back and forth on my heels for a while, Belle gave me a good look up and down, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips as if wanting to comment something. Before she could I saw Harry whisper something to her and she scoffed. “If I have an opinion I’m going to say it. And I have many about her” Belle said loud enough for everyone to hear whilst pointing at me. “Here I found it” Talia smiled at me handing me my camera before noticing the mood of the room.
“Ok well, I will be off then, lovely to see you all and to meet you Belle” I stated the last part through gritted teeth before spinning around and making my way to the door. “Even worse from the back” I heard Belle try and whisper to I presume Harry. I stopped in my tracks and raised my eyebrows. The audacity of this girl, how dare she disrespect me in front of all my friends. I turned around to meet her eyes with a sickeningly sweet smile on my face. Before I could say anything though Talia butted in. “You know what, you do not talk to my friend like that, I have barely known you a month and I am so sick of you already, please leave before I do or say something I regret” she smiled at Belle joining me by my side and linking arms with me. Belle just looked around at everyone, with everyone just averting their gaze and waiting for something big to happen. All she did was huff, grabbing Harrys hand and storming out of the apartment with him.
“Jesus Y/N what did you do to make him choose her, she’s like an angry controlling goblin” Ethan huffed as soon as we all heard the door close. “Hey, I got cut off a long time ago, ask him not me” I giggled before thanking Talia and leaving the apartment to go home.
I was lounging around my apartment, Ethans words spiralling around my head. I decided tonight was for me. I popped on my favourite movie and rummaged through my freezer finding some ben and Jerrys and starting to scoff down the tub. This sofa must be super man or something because I had soon fallen asleep, I was only awoken by loud continuous knocking at my door. I regained my focus and gaged my surrounding before wrapping a blanket around myself and making my way to the door. As soon as I opened it I was pulled into a bone crushing hug. “I’m so fucking sorry, its you its always been you, I don’t know what I was thinking, I just needed someone to fill the void and she was ok for a week but I need you. You are all I need, all I want, please forgive me I love you” as much as I just wanted to melt into his arms I pulled my self back so that we were an arm lengths apart. “You best come in” I sighed. I finished the teas and made my way over to Harry, passing him his favourite mug of mine. I crossed my legs as we sat at opposite ends of the sofa in silence.
“What about Belle?” I broke the silence, harry whipped his head up to look at me. “Look I’m so sorry she was a mistake and I should never have even given her shot. She’s so nasty and I could never forgive myself. This past month without you has felt like my heart was ripped in two. I’ve been so miserable and then when I saw you today I felt like I had been given a new chance at life. I get it if you hate me but I need you so bad and I cant live without you.” Harry opened his heart to me for the second time that evening. “You’re such a dummy Harry” I said with a sigh placing my mug on the coffee table. Harry looked at me as if he was broken by the words I just said. I just shook my head at him before leaning over and planting a soft kiss on his lips. The moment seemed to last forever. It was like in the movies when time slowed down and fireworks erupted around the couple who after all their trials and tribulations finally found each other. “I can’t help but love you Harry” I whispered only inches from his face as I pulled back for air, a sly grin on my face. Harrys arms snaked around my wait brining me into him for another soft kiss. i leant my head on his chest listening to his heart, thumping like it was going to break out and slap me in the face. “So what now” harry mumbled into my hair. I leant up so my eyes met his. “Well you will ask me on a date to a nice restaurant where we end up getting a little too drunk. Then we walk along the Thames, watching people walk by when at the perfect moment when the city goes silent you ask me to be your girlfriend and then we come back here and spend the night together. But with a little more physical activity than were used to” I grinned at him causing him to chuckle. “So you forgive me?” He said looking at me with pleading eyes. “God yes I forgive you, I could never be mad at you” I smiled at him. How could I? I did truly love him and it was as simple as that.
After a few months, and the date Harry had promised, we told our friends and announced to our followers that we had finally decided to get together. apparently it was quite obvious as the boys had started taking bets as to when we would tell them about our new relationship. The fans seemed to love it as well, always receiving amazing and supportive comments on all of our posts and videos that we did together. Although we were young I think people saw how care free and happy we made each other. Most importantly how much we loved each other.
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Ice Dreams - Chapter 2
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | …
Header art is traditional art drawn by me about one year ago - Full pic HERE.
Summary
Despite being very talented and loving to skate, Marinette is determined to quit Figure Skating after the lack of decent results and the great amount of stress and pressure on her shoulders.
On the other hand, Juleka and Luka are average skaters in pairs category who, after years of hard work, have finally started showing some good results. But suddenly, Juleka is forced to retire, leaving Luka at the verge of retirement because of his need for a partner.
Can Juleka convince Luka and Marinette to give figure skating a second chance? Can they form a bond strong enough to reach the top and accomplish their dreams? Could something more than partnership spark between them?
AO3
________________________________
CHAPTER 2: Luka
“C’mon, Juleka,” Luka said, finishing his warm up on the ice rink. “Today we’ll nail it! Are you read-”
*PLOF*
A sudden sound startled him: it was Juleka, his sister, who fell flat on the ice floor.
“Juleka! Hey! Can you hear me?” Luka panicked, rushing to check on her. She wasn’t moving. “Someone! Call an ambulance, NOW!”
___________________________
‘I can’t believe I didn’t notice,’ he thought, sinking between his shoulders. ‘I knew how she was getting more and more thin everyday, I noticed how her weight was lighter. I thought it was because I got stronger. I thought it was her make-up or her clothes. How come I couldn’t notice how light she weighs? Why couldn’t I help her earlier? Why did she have to end up in the hospital? Why am I such a failure as a brother? As a partner… After everything she’s given to me...’
‘Now’s my time to be there for her. This needs to stop’
“Juleka! You’re up!” Luka called, back from his thoughts when the sheets of her hospital bed moved and she slowly opened her eyes.
“What happened? Where…? What happened with practice…? Did I fail a jump...?” The girl asked, still numb. Luka moved his hand to press check on her and call for the nurse.
“No Juleka, you didn’t fall. You fainted” he explained, as the nurse entered the room to check on her.
“Fainted!? Why?” Juleka yelled, and was shushed by the nurse.
“Look. I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier… It’s my fault”
Luka sighed regretfully and Juleka blinked at him. “Notice what…?”
“Juleka, listen: you’ve been diagnosed with an eating disorder” he said, and she gasped. “I know you’ve always been a picky eater but this… THIS is too much. Your BMI is too low... Look at you. You’ve lost so much weight! You need to stop dieting and eat properly” The nurse nodded and Luka nodded back as she left the room. Juleka’s mouth was still open in surprise.
“I… But I need to look thin… like the other girls… like all those great skaters…”
“No, Juleka, you don’t need to look thin, you need to be healthy. And you shouldn’t be a skater anymore if you can’t do that. From now on, I want you to focus on getting your weight back, on getting healthy again. You looked prettier before, Juleka. Don’t let stupid social standards decide how you should be or look like. Just be yourself. You know mom and I will always love you no matter how you look”
“But I do it for myself, not for others! I like myself more when I’m thinner… look at me, at all this fat. How can anyone say they like it? How could the judges like it? I’m hating it myself!” she cried.
“Well, I like it.” His words were honest and straight. “And I think most boys and girls or people in general would prefer that too.”
“You don’t understand!” she insisted. “I have to-”
“I do understand” He cut her. “You are ill. Your judgement is biased. You can’t see the reality. Do you want to be only bones? Do you want to die? Because I don’t want you to. That’s why I need you to promise me you’ll stay in the hospital until you’re healthy again.”
Juleka’s body jolted in shock. “What!? But, Luka! Our competitions! The skating! We finally made it to internationals this year...! I need to do it, for you too!”
“No. No more competitions or skating for you, Juleka. It’s your time to retire. Mom has already submitted your resignation to the Ice Skating Federation. You can’t skate anymore. You need to rest and get better, and to find a way to recover from your eating disorder”
“But Luka, what about you? You've worked so hard! We finally got a high enough score to get into international competitions. I can’t leave you alone now! What about your dream?” she insisted.
“That’s not as important as you are for me, Jules. I want you to be yourself again” he caressed his sister’s hair softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier… I wish I could have helped you… I know you wanted to help me with lifts and my poor endurance and I was too focused on scoring that I couldn’t notice how these feelings were killing you from the inside. I don’t deserve to be called your partner”
“No, Luka. It was me who kept dragging you down! I can’t land my jumps because I weigh too much. I can’t jump high because of it either. It’s a miracle we made it to so far”
“You did amazing, Juleka. You really did and I’m grateful. But now: no more competition for you or for me either. It’s over. Time to find another goal. Both of us” he affirmed.
“No! Luka, even if I don’t compete, you should continue! Find another partner! Many girls would love to work with you! You definitely can accomplish your dream. You just need a more suited partner than me” The purple haired girl stubbornly continued.
“That’s impossible, you know that” Luka remained calm, closed his eyes and let an ironic snicker out. “I don’t get along with other people, I can’t bond with them. Girls? Boys? No matter what you do they always badmouth you about everything. Pure hearted people like you don’t exist, Juleka. I can’t team up with anyone else”
“Luka… But-!”
“This conversation is over” he cut her again, standing up and checking his phone. “I’m going to talk to the doctor and get you something to eat. Mom will be here by midday”
"Wait-"
*Knock knock*
________________________
“Juleka?” Luka checked the room. “Oh your friend already left? How are you? Did you eat everything?”
“Yes…” Her brother could see through her lie.
“Really? What’s this, then?” he pointed at the apple under her pillow
“Ah-”
“You need to eat this apple too, you won’t get healthy otherwise...” Luka said, holding the fruit to peel and cut it for her.
“I know but…” she mumbled.
“This is not a game. It’s serious, Jules” He insisted, offering a piece of apple close to her mouth. “Please…?“
Juleka turned her face away, disgusted. “No. Keep skating”
“We’ve already discussed this. No more skating. You need to get well. Eat” Luka frowned his eyebrows.
“I wasn’t talking about me. I was talking about YOU. I don’t want you to give up your dream...”
“You know I can’t skate with anyone else, Jules. Girls hate me. And I hate them. The best is to quit and focus on taking care of you” Luka insisted with the apple and his sister turned her face away again, using her hand to set his hand and the apple aside.
“But Luka! I found someone willing to be your partner, “ she informed. “You just need to give her a chance. To give pairs skating a second chance. Please…? For me…?”
“You know I can’t do that. It’s settled. I’m resigning tomorrow. The papers are ready and-” his hand moved closer again.
“But you don’t want to quit! I know you don’t! Just like Marinette doesn’t really want to quit either!” she yelled, and Luka blinked at her friend’s name.
“Marinette?”
“Yes, Marinette! We used to compete together when I skated in singles. We’ve been friends since then, even though she always won and I was good for nothing… She’s kind and talented. She has a pure heart, Luka. Just like yours.”
“I remember her,” he recalled. “Not much, but I remember how beautiful her skate was. She is far too talented to be interested in switching to pairs”
“She’s going to quit otherwise” Juleka affirmed.
“No way”
“I’m not joking” If it wasn’t for her conviction, he wouldn’t have believed her. “I think she really doesn’t want to quit, but she is determined to. Just like you don’t want to quit either. You just need to find balance in yourselves and you could be an incredible team. You just need to give her a chance…”
There was a moment when Luka seemed to consider the offer, but he cut his thoughts off. “... No. I can’t, Juleka. We came this far together. I can’t keep all the credit alone. C’mon, eat this for me”
“No” she refused again. “I’m not going to eat unless you give it another chance.”
“Juleka, stop being childish. You’re 15”
“I’m not asking much, Luka. Just one try. I beg you!” she slammed her hands on the bed. And stared at Luka with teary eyes, desperate to the boy’s surprise. “I want you to skate for me too…”
Luka found himself staring into Juleka’s eyes and how serious she was. It was more than rare for her to act this selfishly, so he ended up giving in to her request.
“Ok, one chance.” he sighed. “But you’re eating this apple right now”
“Ugh… Ok… For you… and for Marinette…” she let her mouth open for Luka to feed her the apple at last.
“Good girl” Luka smiled, relieved, despite his sister’s disgusted eating face.
‘One more chance, huh...?’
#fic: ice dreams#my fic#airip4#lukanette fic#endgame lukanette#lukanette figure skating AU#lukanette#Pro LukaMari
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house of memories :: three
:: kageyama tobio x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::
:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.0k ::
the last you had heard of kageyama tobio, he was following his grandfather’s footsteps and leaving you behind to join the syndicate. a chance meeting throws him back into your life, along with all of the memories.
tw: mafia elements, profanity, blood, discussion of kidnapping
Dinner is a quiet affair, the three of you sitting in the penthouse’s dining room while a personal chef serves you. The food is delicious, and for a moment, you’re yet again jealous of Kageyama for having all of this at his disposal. Pre-packaged bentos and junk food are the norm for you, so you would kill to have a personal chef.
“So, y/n, what are you up to now?” Miwa spears a piece of chicken with her fork as she speaks, her eyes locked on you.
You can’t help the smile that comes to your face. “I’m sure you already know.”
She has the foresight to look slightly disappointed. “True, but I want to hear it from you.”
You sigh, taking another bite. “I’m in college at Tokyo University, just started my fourth year. Going pre-med. My best friend is finishing up nursing school. I intern at a research lab on campus, but that’s about it for extracurriculars. Most of my time is spent doing homework and applying to medical school now, anyway.”
“Fun, I guess?”
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
Miwa tilts her head. “Why do you do it, then?”
Contemplating, you pause for a second. Why are you doing all of this? “I want to be a doctor, and these are just the steps for getting there. I do what I have to do.”
She nods in understanding. “You need a break sometime, though. We should hangout sometime, go shopping and whatnot.”
Kageyama, who has been silent during the entire conversation, finally speaks. “You just want to spend my money.”
Miwa reaches across the table to swat at her brother, who avoids her hand by quickly sliding his chair back. “So what if I do? You have so much of it and you never do anything with it. Someone needs to put it to good use, and I’m sure y/n and I can do that.”
Kageyama accepts his defeat with a blank stare. “Fine.”
Miwa squeals in delight and you laugh along with her. “When are you free? I spotted this gorgeous Balmain dress that I’ve had my eye on for awhile, and last time I was in Versace, I found this beautiful zip-up mini, but I didn’t like how it looked on me. I think you would look amazing in it!”
You give her an incredulous look. “I’m free tomorrow, but I’m not quite sure that I could afford that.”
Miwa gasps. “Don’t worry about that, we’re using Tobio’s money.”
The man in question just sighs.
“I couldn’t use his money-”
“Just do it.” Your eyes snap to Kageyama, who seems ready to say anything for this conversation to be over.
“There’s no way, I-”
“Just use the money, y/n. Miwa’s right anyway, I really have too much money that I’ll never use. I’ll give you my black card.”
Your eyes widen. “I really can’t let you do that.”
“Y/n, I have three billion dollars sitting in an account that I never touch. I can afford a shopping spree for you and my sister.”
You truly can’t believe that you’re sitting in front of a billionaire. You figured Kageyama was rich, but this rich? You want to ask him how he did it (you know the answer) or if he can pay for your medical school tuition instead, but what comes out of your mouth is: “Three billion?”
“Yes. Consider it an apology for this mess I’ve gotten you into.” He takes out his wallet and slides a card across the table. “If there isn’t at least a hundred thousand missing from the account, I’ll custom order something for you.” He stands, turning towards the stairs, leaving you slack-jawed and stunned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to finish up. Y/n, I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow when Miwa inevitably drags you back here to try on everything.”
Speechless, you turn to Miwa, who looks smug and delighted. When you finally regain the ability to talk, all you can do is pick up the weighted credit card and whisper, “What the fuck.”
---
The next day, you step outside of your apartment and see a nondescript black sedan parked on the street. You laugh a little to yourself before snapping a pic and messaging it to Kageyama with the caption “you won’t even know they’re there, he said”.
---
When Miwa picks you up in her Lexus after your morning lab, it’s with a coffee and croissant in hand. You sink into the seat, sipping your coffee as she drives off.
“Thank you so much. I can’t believe you remembered my coffee order after all this time.”
She grins sheepishly. “It was in the file.”
“S-Seriously?” you sputter, “He has that kind of shit in my file?”
“He has all sorts of shit in that file.”
You shake your head. “At least if I get kidnapped, they’ll know my coffee order.”
“Hey, about that,” Miwa parks and turns to look at you, “are you alright? I know it’s probably pretty scary, knowing that someone has all that information about you and could use it against you at any moment.”
“I think I’m alright. I mean, I knew it would always be a possibility.”
“Okay, I just wanted to make sure. If you ever need to talk about it, you have my number.”
You give her a smile. “Thank you, Miwa.”
“Of course. Now let’s go shopping.”
---
You’re starting to question how Kageyama has any money at all. Miwa is a menace when shopping, dragging you from store to store, every clerk greeting her by name and suggesting anything new they have to fit her tastes. She was right, her Balmain dress is gorgeous, and you tell her so when she models it for you. She brings you to Versace to show you the zip-up mini, and you immediately fall in love. It’s a gorgeous dress, black with gold accents.
Paying for it, however, is another story. You feel so guilty when you hand over the black card, you almost tell the clerk that you’ve changed your mind. The only thing that stops you is Miwa standing next to you, her eyes encouraging you and reminding you that if you don’t spend the money, Kageyama will do it for you.
“Do you wanna stay over tonight? Tobio’s working late, and I’ve honestly missed spending time with you. You’ve always been like a little sister to me.”
Miwa’s words take you by surprise. You always thought that she hated you after you walked away from Kageyama, but her actions so far have shown the complete opposite. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you guys.”
“Of course I’m sure.” Her smile is bright as she leads you to the next store. “We have two guest rooms in the penthouse, and I want to have a girls night.”
“That honestly sounds amazing.” Hana’s on night shift again tonight, and you would much rather spend your evening with Miwa than in an empty apartment.
“Great, I’m glad.” Miwa’s smile disappears as she browses a rack of blouses. “Honestly, I don’t have that many friends. It’s hard to keep them, doing what we do, and I’m always with Tobio anyway. It’s so nice to have a girl to talk to.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. This is probably the first time I’ve hung out with a friend in over a year.” Miwa’s sadness shows in her eyes, and you feel awful for her. She’s always there for her brother, putting him before herself.
You pull her in for a hug. “I don’t want to say that I’m glad the files were hacked, but I am glad that you are back in my life again.”
“Me too.”
---
Somehow, Miwa convinces you to get matching silk robes for your girls’ night, along with enough skincare and spa products to last for weeks. You’re exhausted by the time you’re finally done shopping, satisfied with your purchases but still feeling slightly guilty. The numerous shopping bags are put into the car, and soon enough, you’re heading back to the penthouse.
When you arrive, the sun has already set, and she ushers you into her bedroom to try on everything you bought, just as Kageyama predicted. All in all, you made out pretty well, with two purses, two pairs of Louboutins (one pair for Hana, of course), numerous clubbing outfits, and some nicer clothes for med school interviews. Miwa claps and cheers as you twirl and spin, gushing over your new outfits.
“You look so gorgeous, y/n.”
This time, she’s referring to the robe that matches hers. It’s truly an extravagant thing, long and flowing with silk and lace. It feels nonexistent on your skin, and you think that if you had to pick one thing to wear for the rest of your life, it would be this.
“Thank you.” You’re blushing slightly as you twirl in front of the mirror. You’ve never worn anything like this before.
“Just wait ‘til Tobio comes home and sees you in it.”
Your head snaps up and your cheeks turn bright red as you rush over to a giggling Miwa, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Don’t say things like that.”
You remove your hand slowly, and immediately regret it. “Why? It’s true. He’s probably going to blush as hard as you are right now and spend the rest of the night in his room, avoiding you.”
Rolling your eyes, you reply, “No he won’t.”
“Uh, yeah, he will.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes! He’s still in love with you! Of course he’s gonna go crazy!”
“He’s what?” You’re in disbelief, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. It’s hard to believe that Kageyama would love any part of you after you left when he announced his move to Tokyo and his future plans.
Miwa puts her hand on your shoulder, looking you in the eyes. “He still loves you, y/n. He never stopped.”
“How is that even possible? I left him.”
“Oh, babe.” She leads you to sit on the edge of her bed as you wipe your eyes. “He never blamed you for that, not once. He knew that you weren’t going to be able to be with him when he told you. He’s kept an eye on you for the past four years because he can’t let you go. I kept telling him that he couldn’t keep it up forever, but then you were in the club that night, and I swear, it was fate. Y’know,” she chuckles lightly, “that night, after he saw you, he came straight up here and sat on the couch for hours, staring out the window. When I finally finished my shift and came up, he was crying. You can’t tell anyone though, because he’s supposed to be this big bad guy and all,” she waves her hand, “but that was the most emotional I’ve seen him in years.”
“Really?” Your voice breaks when you speak, and your tears haven’t stopped.
“Yes. He’s always loved you, and although the circumstances aren’t ideal, I think it’s wonderful that you’re back in his life again.”
You nod. “I missed him, and I still love him, but I don’t know if I can be with him. This is all still so unfamiliar to me, and it’s scary. I have to figure out if it’s worth it.”
Miwa rubs small circles on your back. “I know. Take as much time as you need. I’m just glad you’re here, and I know Tobio is too.”
---
After the emotional rollercoaster in Miwa’s bedroom, you two went downstairs to the living area, ordering takeout and putting on face masks. You lounged on the couch, eating ramen and watching k-dramas until late in the evening. You didn’t ask when Kageyama would be home; you simply enjoyed your time with Miwa. It was nice, spending time with someone that you once considered a sister. You were thrilled that you could hopefully regain that relationship with her.
At around eleven, the elevator dings, signaling someone’s arrival.
Your jaw drops as Kageyama Tobio stumbles into the penthouse, one hand clutching his bleeding chest, as he passes out in the foyer.
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hc or ficlet of teddy proposing you amy again but this time jake decides enough is enough
(Read it on AO3)
“You’re probably wondering why I called you here.” Charles says in a deep, low voice.
“Are we not just having drinks?” Jake asks as he hands Rosa her beer and Charles his fruity rosé-tinted cocktail with a berry garnish.
“No! There are far more pressing matters at hand!”
Jake and Rosa clink their bottles together before the first sip, waiting for Charles to continue on his dramatic tangent, as he needs to do sometimes.
“Amy is going to a seminar in Staten Island next week.” He gives them both a deep stare.
“You might be surprised, bud, but I do know that.”
“Teddy is also going to that seminar.”
Jake stops mid-drink.
“I did not know that.”
“Neither does Amy.” Rosa cuts in. “Or she definitely woulda mentioned it.”
“He’s actually attended this seminar twice before, so I deduced that he’s not going for the learning material this time.” Charles leans back almost triumphantly.
“Yeah, it really doesn’t take a detective to figure that out.” Jake is trying to keep busy peeling the label off of his bottle, but Rosa can tell he’s clearly failing. There’s a furrow in his brow she’s rarely ever seen before.
“We have to stop him! He’s going to propose again, or do something romantic, or make a call-back to the seminar where they met, and Amy’s gonna get all confused-”
“My wife of four years and mother of my son is going to get confused by an unstable ex?” Jake’s voice is - bitter, Rosa thinks, is the best way to describe it, and she doesn’t think she’s ever heard that tone from him. Neither has Charles, it seems, because he backpedals immediately.
“Well, no, but- I mean- Amy is going to be upset- she’s been looking forward to that seminar and Teddy is going to ruin it!” He sputters, and Rosa can’t help but nod.
“And what do you suggest we do about that? We can’t keep Teddy from attending a work-thing, and I’m not going to stop Amy from going.”
“We can- we could kidnap Teddy just for the week, and then-”
“Kidnap a police officer.” Rosa interrupts again. “Because that’s gonna go over so well with the authorities.”
“Well then Jake can go to the seminar as well, and punch him out if he tries anything-”
“Yeah, because Holt’s totally not gonna be suspicious when Jake asks to go to a seminar that doesn’t involve some action training.” Rosa quips.
“I’m also not that big a fan of the idea of punching a man for, like, talking to my wife.” Jake grumbles, the label of his beer now completely gone, and only half-sounds convincing.
“It would be for love!”
“It would be fucking creepy, is what it would be. Like I’m laying claim to some property or something in the most machismo-asshole way possible.”
“Yeah.” Rosa nods. “Amy’s a grown woman, she can tell him to fuck off herself, and she’s done it before. She doesn’t need us to bring chaos to her ‘fun’ little seminar.” She does sarcastic finger quotes around ‘fun’, but she also does know how much Amy is looking forward to this boring thing again - it’s her first time away from Mac on her own, and she’s planned her own trip just as meticulously as she’s planned for Jake’s stay with the kid, as if he has never taken care of his own child before, and kept her up to date on all of it in case she needs to jump in and help in any situation (which she won’t, but she might go over for a playdate anyway, just to see her godson).
Charles grumbles a bit more, something about ‘true love’ and ‘knights in shining armour’, but he drops the subject before their first round is finished and they can actually spend a nice evening together.
-*-
Rosa hands Jake a beer in return, once Charles has called it quits for the night because he has to go say goodnight to Nikolaj (Jake facetimed Amy and Mac instead and promised he’d be home soon, to which Amy rolled her eyes and said ‘Sure, babe. Tell Rosa to keep you out longer for some fun, please.’ the same way he had when Rosa had picked her up for a girls night two weeks ago).
“You okay?” She asks as she watches him peel the edge of the label almost immediately.
“Charles has really gotten into my head. I hate it when that happens.” He sighs as he lets go of the paper and drinks instead.
“Again: Amy’s a grown woman.”
“I know.” He’s fiddling with the label again after just one sip. “It’s just that all this Teddy-shit really does upset her. I mean, not in the ‘confused’ way like Charles said, which is bullshit.” The furrow is back for a second, Rosa notes. “But like… she just mulls it over in her head so much and it makes her feel like shit even if she won’t say it. I think the stunts he pulled at our wedding bothered her more than the whole thing actually being cancelled.”
Rosa nods as she takes her own first sip. She remembers Amy’s face when she realised Teddy was also at that stroller-contest thing she dragged her to. She remembers her face when they finally drove back to the precinct together too. She knows her friend, and if there’s anyone who knows her even better, it’s obviously Jake.
“So we gotta prevent that somehow.” She tries to continue the conversation without delving into Charles-level shenanigan-planning.
“”I just don’t want Amy’s first time off from Mac to suck because of some inconsiderate asshole. But I can’t exactly go along with her like Charles suggested, I have a kid to take care of, and also that idea is kinda insane.”
“Guess I gotta make sure it doesn’t suck, then.” Rosa finishes her beer and tries to ignore Jake’s gobsmacked stare at her. She doesn’t know when it happened, but at some point, apparently, she’s become willing to attend a boring seminar for Santiago.
-*-
Howzit goin
learn to write like an adult Peralta
also your wife will not stop talking about your kid
you love him
I do
but I don’t need updates on his bathing habits
no Teddy sightings yet but we’re also way too early because Amy. Keep you posted
Jake smiles at the text chain on his phone and makes a mental note to send her a picture of Mac in the tub later tonight, just to annoy her a bit more. Amy had handed the baby over to him at the precinct like she was going on a year-long world-cruise instead of just a five day overnight stay in another part of their own city, and Rosa had been standing behind her with her travel bag, rolling her eyes.
It had taken surprisingly little to convince both Amy and Holt that Rosa was actually interested enough in the seminar to join it at the last minute, and Amy had immediately included her in her itinerary, as well as offered to drive with her so she didn’t have to carry all her luggage on her motorcycle. Jake was going to owe her so, so many favours after all this.
The Mac-inna-tub picture only gets a grumbling emoji response, but she texts him again at around 9, when Mac is already fast asleep and he’s finally turned on Die Hard at the lowest possible volume to not wake him up again.
Teddy showed up
tried to say Hi (or worse) to Amy but I stared him away
going out for first day drinks with the group. I’ll keep him away. Maybe slip something into his drink.
why do I not question you having something to slip into drinks?
I can do more than just knives
don’t stay up all night watching all Die Hards. You gotta take Mac to daycare early tomorrow
Amy told me to tell you that
sure
and it’s only Die Hard 1 tonight
gonna spread them out over all the evenings
got one night left if you skip 4
The Holiday is on Netflix
you’re a good one Peralta
There’s no more updates until 11am the next morning, long after Mac has gone to daycare right on time, as he’s informed Amy via text to calm her down, and he was at the precinct only 15 minutes late this time.
Teddy pulled out the big guns
he had an actual ring this time. Looked expensive
There’s a sinking feeling in his chest, and he wonders what he should answer before his phone pings again.
I broke the ring
and the box
also his hand (‘accident’ - have to say that for liability)
anyway he’s out of the seminar now I guess because he can’t write anymore
so no need to worry
Jake tries to suppress his grin by biting his lip as he texts her back, Charles already getting a bit suspicious over him smiling at his phone constantly two desks over. He can probably explain it away by claiming he’s been messaging Amy, instead.
You’re my goddamn queen, Diaz
no
Amy is
but I definitely own your ass now too since I have to spend 4 more days in this shit place for you
There’s very few updates the rest of the week (apart from several pics of Amy either working, drinking, or lying hungover in bed in their shared hotel room - Rosa has resolved to make the whole boring thing a whole lot less boring, it seems) even as he keeps texting both ladies with Mac-updates and Mac-pictures.
Amy is all smiles and definitely not upset when they get back to the precinct and he’s already there to pick her up and hand the baby to his excited mama, and even Rosa spares a smile for the two Peralta-boys after the week she’s had.
He sidles up to her as Amy coos over her little boy giving her a hug and hello kisses.
“I really do owe you one, Rosa. Thanks.”
“Dude, you owe me several.” She growls. “At least I won’t have to do that ever again. I’d say Teddy’s out of the picture now.”
“Because of one broken hand?”
“Yeah, I visited him in the hospital when he was getting his cast on. To ‘apologise’ for the injury.” Rosa grins, and even her sarcastic finger quotes seem intimidating. “Not even he’s that stupid to try and come back.”
Jake raises his fist, and Rosa reluctantly bumps it before both turn their attention back to Amy, who’s already chatting about weekend plans and offering Rosa a ride home. She takes the offer, if only to play peek-a-bo with Mac in the backseat.
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5 ☾ i don’t want you to hurt me anymore
note: fully written chapter this time! no social media pics, but in this chapter, we see a little bit more of yoongi and yn’s relationship, or at least the bit of it when they fell apart. it’s sad. :-( once again, not edited lol.
note 2: feel free to message me about the story, or ask my characters anything hehe. my account is also open to fake text requests/imagines <3 i’m bored these days lol
word count: 2,627
At the doctor’s surprising news, both Yoongi and Jungkook froze. Yoongi did not know what to say, so he turned to the spot next to him, only to realize that Jin, who had left to go to the nurse at the reception, was not there. He didn’t know how to react, especially when Jungkook was the one standing by him right now.
Jungkook himself was much more confused than he looked. He looked at Yoongi questioningly. How were you pregnant when he knew that your relationship was on the rocks before your divorce even happened? He thought the worst case scenario and blurted it out without thinking.
“She cheated on you?” He asked.
Yoongi and the doctor both turned to him in shock at his question.
Yoongi furiously shook his head. “No, she couldn’t have.” The silence after that was deafening.
“How far along did you say she was?” He turned to the doctor.
The man looked scanned through his clipboard again to make sure he had the right timeline.
“We estimate that she’s about two months along.”
2 months. That’s around the time they were completing the divorce procedures. Yoongi tries to think back on how you could have ended up pregnant. Your started becoming distant some time around August when he was getting closer and closer to Yura. Your intimacy lessened as time passed, but he knew that you couldn’t have cheated on him. What had happened in the beginning of September?
After a minute or two, his eyes widened after he finally realized what happened between them that was most likely the conception date for the pregnancy.
He remembers a warm night in the beginning of September, where he came home late and you were waiting on the couch with a finished wine glass on the table.
Flashback
By the time he had gotten home, it was obvious that you were drunk and the drunk you had a lot of words to say. He couldn’t really tell what you were saying because you started crying as soon as the words came out of her mouth, but he knew that you were upset at him. So upset that you had broken down on the floor sobbing. He’d knelt down on the floor and cupped your cheeks and lifted your face up to meet his. Your eyes were bloodshot and teary and all he heard from you at this point were sniffles and sobs.
“What’s wrong, baby? Why are you crying?” He asked, wiping the tears falling down her cheeks.
Those words had only made you cry harder.
“Because you don’t love me anymore.” You cried out in between sniffles.
The look on Yoongi’s face was a mixture of shock and hurt, but you couldn’t tell why. You were the one who was hurt, so why was he showing you a face like that?
“No, no, no baby. Who told you that? Why would you ever think that? I love you so much.” Yoongi had said to you as he desperately tried to wipe the tears that continued to flow from your eyes.
“It’s true, though, isn’t it? You don’t love me anymore and you’re with that girl from your company. You take her to all of your parties, you take her to dinners with your friends. You don’t have me in your heart anymore. Your friends don’t like me. Especially Jungkook. I don’t even know why. I’m sure even your parents don’t like me. Why do you guys hate me so much? Why does God hate me? Why would he do that to me? Am I not enough? Am I not worthy of receiving any sort of fucking love in this life?” At this point, you were practically yelling. Your lungs burned from crying and talking so much but you couldn’t really tell because the alcohol made you focus on your tears and dizziness and the man in front of you instead.
Yoongi’s eyes softened, then his brows furrowed, as if he was confused. What was there to be confused about? He hurt you, but he looked like he was the one who was hurt in this situation.
“Why do you look like that?” you asked. “Why do you look like you’re the one who got your heart broken when I’m the one who’s waiting at home for you and you don’t even have the decency to tell me where you are, or who you’re with or what time you’re coming home. Why do you get to fucking look like you’re hurt when I’m the one who has to watch you and all your fucking friends and family swoon over that woman. I’m your wife! And all I can do is sit at home and wait for you to fucking care about me. This is not how I want to live, Yoongi. I don’t deserve to be hurt like this. Not after what happened. Please, I’m so tired. It hurts so fucking much, Yoongi. Why are you doing this to me?” The crying only continued until you couldn’t breathe anymore.
Yoongi pulled your form into a tight hug, and held you like it was his dying wish. You didn’t know if you heard it properly but you thought he was crying. And he was. There were tears in his eyes because he knew that what you were saying was valid. Extremely. And he couldn’t really refute it because it was true, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t love you.
He stroked your hair until you calmed down a little more and that’s when he finally got a word in.
“Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry that you had to go through that. I love you so much that it hurts my heart when I think about not having you in my life. You’re my everything and you were with me from the start, of course you have a place in my heart. You own it. I’m sorry I made you feel that way but please don’t ever doubt my love for you. Yura, she’s nothing. She’s just my friend. And you said you didn’t want to go to the parties. Jungkook and Yura are friends and they get along so that’s why I bring her. She’s become one of my closest friends but that’s just what she is. A friend. I love you, not her.”
You and Yoongi both know that he wasn’t being truthful, but you let it be because he was saying things you wanted him to say. He was reassuring you of his love for you, and even if it wasn’t true, it still gave you some temporary relief.
He put his face on the crook of your neck and muttered a million ‘sorrys’ before you moved to put your hand on his back.
“You hurt me. I don’t want you to hurt me anymore, Yoongi. I love you so much that it makes me hate myself. You made me suffer so much these past months.”
“I know, baby, and I won’t do it again. I love you so much. I’ll try harder, okay? I’ll go home earlier and I won’t go to the parties anymore. I don’t want to give up on our marriage. I want to be with you.”
The night of crying and venting out the hurt and shame and tears had ended in the both of you tangled up in bed all night, probably making up for the pain that was caused. Yoongi didn’t remember much of that night because it hurt him to think about it, but of the amount of times you had made love that night under the moonlight, one of them undoubtedly got you pregnant. He never used protection with you and that was only because he knew you were on birth control, but he had never thought about you getting pregnant, especially not after the fact that it was only a week and a half later when his lawyers brought the divorce papers to you.
End flashback
Being reminded of that night made Yoongi feel queasy. In his heart, he knew that he had told you that truth when he said he loved you and that he wanted to save your marriage, but he was tired. And you were growing distant. Both of you. He could never bring you out anywhere and you always got mad when he went with someone else, or when he was with Jungkook. Yura was there and she was so nice and bubbly and happy, and being with her made him happy. Though you both tried, the arguments increased and his frustrations bubbled until he finally decided to tell his lawyer to draw up the divorce papers.
Yoongi snapped back to the present and looked up at the doctor.
“Yeah, two months sound about right. How is she doing? How is the baby doing?” He asked.
“The fetus is doing pretty well considering the accident. We’re surprised she didn’t suffer a miscarriage because of the impact of the crash, but I guess this can be considered a miracle. To reiterate, Miss y/n is okay, just suffering from a head wound and multiple lacerations and bruises. For the next couple of days, bruises might become more prominent. We’ll be doing MRIs to check on brain activity, especially because of her head wound. Just to check if everything is okay. We don’t know how long she’ll stay unconscious for, but we’re hopeful that she’ll wake up within a couple of days, a week at most.” The doctor stated.
Yoongi nodded absentmindedly. He was quiet for some time until Jungkook spoke up.
“Are we allowed to see her?” He asked.
The doctor nodded. “Yes, you can see her. I think they’ll have wheeled her into her room right now. You can just go through that door. It’s a hallway that winds around so you’ll end up on the other side. I believe she’ll be in room 3. We only allow one visitor to stay overnight.”
“Ok, thank you so much, sir. We’ll wait for her cousin first before going to see her.” Jungkook stated.
“Thank you, doctor.” Yoongi said with a small but dull smile on his face. He truly was thankful. He didn’t know if he would have ever known that he would be a father if it wasn’t for this accident and the doctor. As sick as it sounds, he was somehow grateful that he was your emergency contact.
“It’s no problem at all. Since you are her emergency contact, we will be updating you on her progress and if anything should happen, but right now, things are looking up. Don’t worry too much. She’s alive and so is your baby. It’s a miracle.” The doctor smiled at Yoongi before waving goodbye.
Yoongi and Jungkook sat back down on the chairs trying to sink the information into their heads.
The accident. You. Near-death and pregnant. It all seemed like some sort of crazy movie plot.
“So, she didn’t cheat on you? That’s your child that she’s carrying?” Jungkook’s voice rang in Yoongi’s ears.
The accusations are ridiculous, he knows that. That’s his child that was in your belly. There was no doubt about it, and yet, for some reason, it made him feel strange.
Yoongi nodded to answer his question.
“I thought you said you guys weren’t close leading up to the divorce?” Jungkook questioned.
Yoongi shook his head. “Not for a while, but something happened. I don’t really want to talk about it in detail, but it was emotional and it got the better of both of us. It was the week before the divorce papers.”
“Oh, when you stopped coming to the parties after work, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Silence followed and stayed until the both of them heard heavy footsteps coming up to them. They look up to see Jin fast-walking to them, with a nurse trailing behind him. The same nurse who had led Yoongi here.
“She told me that they were letting visitors in for y/n, now. Did the doctors tell you anything?” He asked.
Yoongi’s face blanked. Jungkook looked at him and back at Jin and nodded.
“Let’s head to her room first and we’ll tell you what he told us.” He said.
The three of them followed the nurse around the hallway to the other side of the operating room. The walk was short, but the silence dragged on until the creaking of the door opening was all they could hear.
Yoongi walked in first and the moment he saw you, he felt sick to his stomach. Your body, pale and bruised, was covered in bandages from head to toe. Half of your head was wrapped in gauze. For the head injury, he’s assuming. There were multiple wires and needles connected to your hands. He had never, ever seen you, or anyone like this before. And it broke his heart, and then the guilt started to seep in.
He walked up to your unconscious body and took your hand, covered in all sorts of wires, in his. Somehow it felt unreal, but as the seconds passed and as his eyes passed over your still form, the reality of the accident and the pregnancy settled on his mind and in his heart.
He felt someone come up behind him and from his peripheral he can identify Jin. He looked about ready to cry, much like how Yoongi did at this moment.
“What did the doctor say?” Jin asked.
Jungkook stayed back, leaning against the door. He waited for Yoongi to answer but his eyes were locked on your body, so he decided to just speak up in place of his hyung.
“The doctor said she’s ok and is expected to wake up in the next couple of days or a week at most. No heavy damage, apparently.”
Yoongi mumbled something as he stroked your bruised fingers. Jin turned to look at him.
“What?”
“She’s pregnant.” Yoongi said, louder this time.
Jin’s eyes widened almost comically. “Pregnant, how in the hell is she pregnant? I think I would know if she was having a kid with somebody.”
“It’s mine.”
“No. There’s no way. You are divorced, and you hurt her. She would have never let you touch her when you hurt her as much as you did.” Jin’s voice got louder and louder, and the guilt that was planted in the pit of Yoongi’s stomach bloomed.
“Yeah, I know. It was one time and we were both emotionally wrecked. I made promises to her that I couldn’t keep and now here we are. But that’s my fucking kid, you can’t tell me otherwise.” Yoongi tried to keep his tone respectful, as Jin was older than him and was one of the most prominent people in your life, but he could only take so much criticism. Jin’s talked to him as if he ruined your life. As if he killed you.
“It’s her child. When she wakes up, she won’t want anything to do with you. You hurt her beyond anything you could probably even imagine in your little brain. You were off doing god knows what when she was suffering at home. That’s not your kid. It might be yours biologically, but you ruined all the chances you had of being a dad when you broke y/n’s heart.”
Every word Jin said was like a knife to his heart. It fed the flower of guilt and made it grow. When he thought about it, he couldn’t really argue because what he said was true. You were a unit before, but when he had promised to try harder, he didn’t and now you’re divorced and pregnant and you hate him and you two will be parents but in a broken family.
☽
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#bts#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts fake texts#bts x reader#yoongi fanfic#yoongi fic#yoongi imagines#suga imagines#yoongi x reader#bts angst#yoongi angst#min yoongi#min yoongi imagine#min yoongi fanfic#bts fanfiction#yoongi fake text#bts social media au#bts fake text au#bts au#purpletaecup: i feel you in my heart
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A Jikook Guide to RunBTS: 66-80
Things in this batch start out a little slow, KM-wise, but seriously pick up around the Toronto episodes. It features the episodes where both RM and Jin ask if JK and JM are a couple, so it includes the giggly hand-push game that helped make me a jikook believer!
As usual, let me know if I’ve missed anything or should take another look at something. :)
Ep 66 "BTS in a Comic Book Cafe Part 1" (Ep: 2 / KM: 1)
The one that I can’t help but feel would be more fun if I was more familiar with the comics involved, but the guys make it cute anyway
3:08 - This is a little hard to see because they use weird angles and cuts, but JK sings a piece of a theme song and JM catches his eye and sings with him.
9:23 - JK leans in over JM's shoulder to see how many people are on the comic book page
10:18 - JM does the same when it's JK's turn
BEHIND
10:29 - JM jokes around with JK and does the playful chest tap thing
Ep 67 "BTS in a Comic Book Cafe Part 2" (Ep: 3 / KM: 1)
None
BEHIND
7:28 - JM asks JK if there's a comic book he wants and says he'll buy it for him if so
Ep 68 "Heart Pang" (Ep: 1 / KM: 0)
The one where I can't for the life of me understand the board game they are playing
None.
Ep 69 "BTS in Toronto Part 1" (Ep: 4 / KM: 5)
The Toronto one where Jikook wear matching denim shirts while going to Niagara Falls, getting lunch, and playing games
2:36 - RM says there are certain people who will struggle with the wake up challenge. JK and JM readily seem to admit it's them.
6:29 - JM hangs back (to walk with JK?) when the rest of the group starts heading for the Falls.
8:06 - There's a "teleporting" moment where Jin is in between JM and JK, then the camera cuts away, then it comes back and jikook are next to each other. They stay next to each other as they walk on.
9:52 - You can see jikook interacting in the background.
12:25 - JM takes a photo of JK and gets him to giggle, then they huddle to look at the pic.
13:56 - JM puts his arm around JK and takes a selca in the background, causing RM to ask "what, are you a couple or something? Both wearing denim shirts?" He says it fairly seriously for a line that seems like it's supposed to be a joke and they don't laugh or say anything in response - it looks like JM looks away and flips his hair while JK shifts and awkwardly rubs his forehead.
You can also see a quiet exchange after between RM and JM where RM says no to something, then nods at JK. Unclear if it's related, but including it just in case.
15:25 - JK doesnn't try to distract JM while he did the staring contest like he did with Hobi. When Jimin passes, JK is the only one to clap.
18:04 - Quick moment where you can see JK start to rub the arm of JM's shirt before the camera cuts away.
18:50 - JM laughs and touches JK's chest after JK loses the rocks paper scissor game, too.
19:53 - When the other five walk away and JK is doing something with his mic, we don't see where JM is.
22:02 - JK appears to help JM with something with his camera in the foreground.
BEHIND
4:12 - After JHope scolds JK for letting Suga pour everyone's water, JK goes to pour JM some water, then puts the pitcher down. JM seemingly tries to help him out by saying it's a new trend for the oldest to pour water.
Ep 70 "BTS in Toronto Part 2" (Ep: 3 / KM: 5)
The Toronto one where the guys go shopping, pick beds, and play games
1:15 - JK slows down to walk side by side with JM.
2:00 - When JK messes up the game he was confident he'd win, JK laughs and playfully shoves at his chest.
7:23 - When JK loses a game and has to buy the others hoodies, JM sneaks a hat into the pile while JK has his back turned. RM rats him out.
8:01 - JM quietly puts the hat back in the pile, then walks over and hugs JK.
8:40 - JK walks over to Jimin to show him something (sunglasses he wanted?).
20:30 - When they're all joking around about whether they can fit four people on a bed, JK moves JM into an L-shape and then lays down nested with him.
BEHIND
0:09 - JK calls out "Jimin-ssi!" and tosses JM that hat he bought him.
4:49 - When the guys are all stretching and JM is in an inconvenient place, JK calls him "Jimin-ssi" again, essentially feels up his calf, and then pushes his upper thigh, all purportedly to get him to move over.
5:28 - JK kneels down behind JM, who's on all fours, and holds his hips to correct his position (I am literally just describing what happens in the clip, but I kind of feel like I'm writing porn, here...). JK then picks Jimin up to move him over a bit. Both giggle as JK starts to stand up and then the camera cuts away.
I can't even begin to think what exercising looks like for these two when there aren't cameras on them...
6:55 - JK reads out the words on the Jimin shirt they're all wearing, which happen to be, "BTS Park Jimin, I love you! I root for you! I'm ARMY!" with a huge grin on his face. Jimin laughs - no one else does - and then jokes that they should wear the shirts back to Korea, prompting JK to tell him "bye!" and wave while giggling.
7:37 - Jimin shows the parts of the shirt design he would change by poking JK's chest, and then JK and JM share a fairly steamy look until RM interrupts.
7:52 - JK folds up the shirt so JM's face looks weird and Jimin points to him doing it and laughs. No one else does.
Man, these two were really in their own world this whole Toronto trip, weren't they?
8:02 - JM tries to give JK some advice on the game he's about to play. Before starting, JK starts what seems like it's going to be a silly pose, but ends up being him dragging his fingers down his face, neck, and chest. Sadly for JK, JM wasn't looking. Happily for us, we can look as much as we want.
8:18 - When JM wins a game, JK claps for him. You can probably guess by now that he's the only one who does.
10:09 - JM steals a piece of steak, then JK does some cross-cut teleporting to come over and sink down into a chair next to him. JM overdoes making his eyes look big and innocent (perhaps hoping to get caught and scolded?).
10:35 - JM makes Jin move when he takes JM's seat next to JK
I feel like just the Behind for this episode needs it's own jikook rating! And most of it is watching JK lead the guys in a workout. If you're going to watch just one Run Behind, consider making it this one!
Ep 71 "BTS in Toronto Part 3" (Ep: 3 / KM: 3)
The Toronto one where the guys have dinner, have breakfast, and play games
14:28 - Maybe nothing, but just to note it - in this and the next shot, you can see JM heading towards where JK is lying back on the couch after losing a game, then there's an abrupt cut and everyone is in a totally different position.
29:20 - JK tells JM the "super-pancake" he made is for him since he has to do the penalties.
BEHIND
6:59 - JM says that he thinks JK will want to eat and calls out for him.
Ep 72 "BTS and Mafia" (Ep: 3 / KM: 2)
The one in which we learn that BTS is so terrible at the Mafia game that it almost comes back around to being impressive
3:10 - When Jin says JK is suspicious because he isn't talking, JM defends him, saying "you know he doesn't talk much."
8:34 - JM seems to direct his appeal to be spared to JK.
18:16 - JK compliments how well Jimin is doing at the game.
20:13 - After Jimin says he's ARMY, JK asks, "do you like me that much?" Then there's a quick cut and Jin is doing a Jim Halpert face at the camera.
28:03 - Confusing maybe-moment - let me know if it's clearer to anyone else! - but after JH is sending finger heart guns, JM points gun fingers directly at JK for no apparent reason.
BEHIND
2:39 - Before they start playing, JK predicts that JM and Jin will be good at the game.
Eps 73-76 “Run BTS Drama Parts 1-4″ (n/a)
The ones where BTS spend four episodes making a “comedic” skit
01:09 - After JK explains that he had a wisdom tooth taken out, Jimin adds the info that they had to take out the whole root.
09:10 - Even though V is the "director" of Jimin's scene, JK speaks up and takes over the role, saying that directors use informal language and repeating twice in informal language "Jimin, let's go!" He continues speaking informally when Jimin messes up and JK scolds him.
11:40 - When it's JK's turn to deliver a line and he gets nervous about remembering it, JM reads it out loud for him. He also says as soon as JK delivers the line that he did the best job and adds to Hobi, "he doesn't get embarassed, I told you."
16:26 - It's a little hard to see for sure, but it looks like Jimin votes for JK when it's time to choose who should be the skit's director.
I'm going to be totally honest with you guys - I didn't rewatch these episodes past this. I first saw it months ago and remember being disappointed and fairly bored through most of it past the first half of the first episode - I don't find the skit funny and the behind-the-scenes stuff isn't amusing enough to make a four-part episode about. I’m sure there are others who completely disagree with me and no judgment if you don't share my opinion! But I'm doing this guide for fun and I don't want to spend two hours rewatching them.
I don't recall a ton of jikook beyond the above - I think there's a moment in part 3 where JK is getting tired and Jimin offers to take over slating for him. So, anyone who is a fan and knows / finds more jikook moments, please let me know and I will update this guide to reflect that. Otherwise, let's happily move along. :)
Ep 77 “Food Guest Part 1″ (Ep: 4 / KM: 5)
The weirdly-named ones that are prob better translated as "food connoisseurs" but the specifics of the foods theme don't really matter because JIKOOK
07:41 - When Jin says JK and JM will be competing in a palm-push game, JM says he's already lost (because JK is strong).
07:55 - I'm fairly certain that, if you're a jikook-er, you've seen this moment. It's so unabashedly flirty a description can't really do it justice.
JK and JM are supposed to be playing a game where they put their palms together and shove to see who can make the other lose their balance. JM shoves lightly at JK's chest before they even start the game, then both start giggling. Still giggly, JM asks if JK's ready and JK says he is. JM pushes at JK's palms and JK just swings his arms back as they look at each other and smile. Jin interrupts to ask, "are you a dating couple?" (that's the most direct translation - V app translation is "are you two together?"). JK and JM both laugh, the latter so hard that he spins around, thus losing the game.
17:08 - JK is staring so intently at Jimin on his knees with a blow-pen in his mouth that he completely misses RM trying to give him a high five. Jin has to call for JK to please respond to RM before JK looks away and returns the high five, laughing and apologizing. He looks back immediately after.
BEHIND
0:58 - JK gives JM a shoulder massage while holding his chest as JM makes satisfied noises. I've seen this clip in compilations before, but hadn't realized it was also from this episode. It's really the gift that keeps on giving!
4:29 - Just prior to the above palm-push game, JM reaches out to do something to JK's sleeve (I think?). The camera cuts before we see clearly.
4:31 - Slightly different angle of JM and JK giggling at the start of the palm-push game.
7:11 - Reveals that RM actually tried to high five JK and was ignored TWICE before Jin called JK's attention away from JM on his knees with a blow-pen in his mouth.
Ep 78 “Food Guest Part 2″ (Ep: 3 / KM: 3)
15:00 - JK jokingly asks what the answer is and Jimin giggles at him as the on-screen text says, "how adorable." Unsurprisingly, the others are less enamored. (JK's biggest fans = 1. Jimin 2. Run BTS on-screen text writers)
BEHIND
9:56 - JK watches JM dance playfully, then wiggles his own hips, seeming to want JM's attention. Jimin smiles and starts to say something that gets cut off.
10:03 - JK films JM as JM dances and smiles while looking into the camera. Jimin is doing silly dance, but JK zooms in on his joyful face. He quickly licks his lips as he watches.
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Who We Are - F.W.
Chapter Four: Nothing More
Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
a/n: the world may fall apart idk but rn i kinda have hope and that was enough to get me goin and fucking finish this chapter omg, im sorry i hope im providing a small amount of solace i know its hard rn
summary: Executing the prank leads to a moment alone with Fred that leaves you with butterflies and more questions than you can keep count of.
word count: 3.1k
warnings: fluff, just fluff and some shet writing baybeeee
tags: @you-make-children-cry @bohemianspacebabe @levylovegood @louist-pics @rochellestark @hufflepuffzutara @weasleybeb @whoreforfredweasley
The end of term quickly approached. I stood in my green dorm throwing things messily into my trunk. Today was the big day and my nerves were showing it. I had to help the twins prank Snape, that I was ok with, then I was spending the break with the twins and their family, that was scaring me. I was aware that all of the Weasleys were in Gryffindor, even Bill, and Charlie who had since graduated. I knew that my friendship with the twins, as well as Ron would give me cushioning but people, especially Gryffindors were never too inviting to Slytherins. I understand why Slytherins are seen as mean and cold, and I won’t lie I have been cold before. I turned people down often to focus on my studies and I don’t realize how I come off doing so. That was a bit of a curve in my relationship with the twins. They were apprehensive in continuing our friendship after my sorting and when they did I was thrilled, but we had a lot of issues none the less.
“Cmon, transfiguration can wait.” A second-year George pushed. I rolled my eyes, unable to study or keep focus as they continued to pester me.
“No, it can’t.” I snapped. “I need to do this, so please just let me finish it.” They glanced at me, obviously on edge due to my outburst before walking away. I sighed in relief and continued to scribble down notes. I had to get perfect marks to become a Healer, that was my dream and that was why I was sorted in Slytherin, my ambition and goals were at the top of my mind at all times. I was going to be a Healer. I knew since I was a child I wanted to help people.
I cringed closing my trunk as the memory resurfaced. I remembered the fight that followed that, I never meant to upset them or hurt them but I would put my studies first. I have loosened up since but I have shared my goals with them and they have been extremely understanding and stopped pushing me as much, giving me time to study. They understood my curtness and I promised to be kinder even when I was stressed. My temper caused some tension between us especially at the beginning of our friendship, but now they don’t see my house or the color on my robes but the girl they met on the train four years ago. My favorite days were the days where I would sit with Fred and George by the lake, they would work on a prank invention and I would work on my homework. It was comfortable and homey, they always made me feel at ease.
I picked up my trunk, pulling it out of the dorms and common room. There was eagerness in my steps as I made my way to the Gryffindor common room, levitating my trunk up the stairs I felt my heart rate pick up. I had never spent the holidays with friends, much less with the family of the boy who I had a crush on. I tried to regain my breathing walking into the common room. It always felt warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the Slytherin common room. Dropping my trunk by the portrait hole I scanned the room for my redheads. Spotting them, their backs to me as they talked feverishly to Lee Jordan who sat in front of them.
Jumping over the back of the couch I plopped in between them. Lee erupted into a fit of giggles as both boys jumped away from me. George glared, shoving me with his shoulder. This didn’t discourage my grin, looking over to Fred I saw him pouting. I bit my lip, reaching up I ruffled his overgrown locks. His pout transformed into a small smile. Seeing his features transform caused my smile to grow. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him. His scent engulfed me much like he was, cinnamon and fireworks overpowering the rest of my senses. I smiled as my hand traveled up to his chest, resting on it to steady myself as I crashed into his chest. I didn’t notice George and Lee staring with amused looks adorning their faces, all I was focussed on was Fred. His fingers traced small patterns on my arm.
Instead of address his affections he steered the conversation back on track. “So Lee, any thoughts.” I turned to see Lee, he looked as though he was going to burst into laughter, swallowing his amusement he shook his head no. I looked over to George who had a very similar look on his face. I realized their amusement was directed at Fred and I and I felt my cheeks heat up as I looked at the floor, slightly embarrassed.
“Are you ready?” I pulled my gaze up to Fred. He was looking at me concerned, the weight of his arm was lessened and I felt him pulling back, seemingly aware of my embarrassment. I quickly forgot about it as I nodded up to him smiling. I squeezed his jumper slightly with my hand.
“More ready than I’ve ever been.” I gushed. His arm relaxed and he pulled me closer laughing lightly. I tried to focus on him as the butterflies erupted inside of me.
“More ready than the last test you took? I swear you studied for two days straight.” I glared at him as he laughed more at my expression. It was true, I did study a lot, I was worried about my marks, but that was justified with the perfect score I received.
“It was worth it, besides I forced you to study and you did well, don’t make fun of me you benefited from it.” He sighed defeated.
“Let’s go lovebirds! I do believe you need to talk to your professor.” George threw a pillow at us and got up. His long legs pulled him up and in a few strides, he stood waiting for us at the portrait hole. I blushed and pulled myself off of Fred, putting my hand out to help him up which he gladly took and we ran off to the potions classroom.
I peaked my head inside, seeing Snape. From behind my back, I waved the twins off, signaling for them the hide as I walked inside the classroom clearing my throat.
“Mr. Snape?” He aggressively shut the book in his hands and turned to see me, his black hair swaying slightly. He raised an eyebrow, nonverbally telling me to continue. “Could you help me pick out a potions book to study over break? I haven’t been very happy with my marks and I wanted to improve, I just wasn’t sure which one to pick and Pince isn’t here.” He let out a short groan, placed his book down, and strode out of the door.
“Follow me.” His monotone voice rang through the hall. I skipped slightly trying to keep up with him. I glanced behind me and I watched the twins slink into his room, Fred sent me a wink before going into the room. I blushed and turned back towards Snape as he led me through the hall towards the library. The library visit was long and aggravating, Snape made a lot of remarks about my grades, calling them less than, but I pushed my anger aside and tried to focus on the task at hand which was to distract him for as long as possible. Eventually, once I had checked out three potions books, filled with information I already knew he was back on his way to his classroom and I ran up to the common room to find the twins. Walking through the portrait hole I was met with roaring laughter, the common room was packed with people all adorning red. Finding the source of their laughter wasn’t hard. As my eyes looked through the crowd I saw Fred and George, covered head to toe in a pink paint like substance, both of them looked extremely happy despite the color of their robes.
“I did not just spend half an hour with Snape for this to backfire.” I said walking up to them, I tried to sound serious but it was hard to contain my laughter as I got a better look at them.
“You didn’t! Let’s just say the cauldrons weren’t the only thing that turned pink.” George said sheepishly.
“Yeah let’s just say it was the desks as well…” Fred added.
“And the chairs…” George continued.
“And the walls…” Fred cringed.
“Don’t forget the ceiling.” George laughed out.
I shook my head at the two boys. Fred smiled at me and it made my heart race. “You two should clean up, before Snape sees you looking like his classroom.” They nodded and we all walked up the dormitory stairs toward the bathrooms.
I watched amused as George walked through the doorway, he was pulling clumps of pink paint out of his hair. Fred turned to me.
“Do you want to wait out here?” He asked.
“Well I didn’t think you wanted me in there while you showered.” I laughed out. “Give me your robes when you get out and I will try to get the pink out.” He nodded and walked in after George. I leaned against the wall trying to imagine Snape’s classroom, wishing I could have seen his face. Soon enough a dripping George walked back out of the doorway, he had a towel in his hands and another wrapped around his hips.
“Like what you see?” He winked as he used the towel in his hands to dry his hair. Dramatically he stopped and flexed, turning around and doing different poses.
“Will you go get dressed.” I laughed out. “Are your robes in there? I’ll try and get the pink out after Fred’s out.” He nodded and walked up the steps, he didn’t leave without showing me a few more poses but eventually he disappeared into his dorm.
“Y/N?” My head picked up at the sound of my name, I recognized Fred’s voice although slightly muffled by the door. “Will you come in here?”
I walked tentatively toward the door. I pushed it open and saw the big bathroom, the left side had multiple shower stalls and there were benches and cubbies to my right. Looking around I saw Fred leaning against a sink straight in front of me, he had a towel wrapped around his hips much like George but it sat slightly lower. I closed the door behind me and took a few steps forward.
“You ok Freddie?” I asked. He turned to face me and I gulped, his toned torso and pale skin was dripping due to the humidity in the room. The room itself was slightly foggy and the longer I looked at him the more hot I felt. The damp air caused my clothes to latch onto my skin and seeing him in front of me made my breathing hitch.
He let out a short groan. “I can’t get the pink out of my hair.” Looking at his hair instead of his body I could see the clumps of pink he couldn’t get out. I walked forward and reached my hands up to move his hair, our chests were close to touching, I could feel his eyes on my face which was getting hotter the longer I stood there. I kept my focus on his ginger locks, moving them around to inspect them the best I could considering our large height gap.
“Did you use cold water?” I asked. He nodded curtly and swallowed, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well you hardened the paint and it’s practically dried in your hair now.”
He groaned again. “So I bloody gave myself hypothermia for nothing?” I bit my lip to suppress another laugh that was dangerously close from escaping. I watched as his eyes travelled down to my lips momentarily causing a new wave of heat and nerves to hit me like a bus.
“I’m sorry Freddie, I can try to get it out for you if you want.” I offered, I felt bad for him, I knew he didn’t want to cut his hair and if we didn’t get it out we might just have to.
“You want to shower with me?” He smirked down at me. I felt my cheeks warm up and my mouth go dry.
“I meant in the sink.” I gulped and slapped his chest lightly. His smirk didn’t falter as he lowered his head in the sink. I turned on the hot water, testing it to make sure it wasn’t too hot I directed his head into the line of water. I massaged his head lightly and I felt him relax as I did so. I saw the way his shoulders lost their tension and the muscles moved lightly as he sighed. I felt accomplished seeing that I was helping him.
I took my eyes off of his back and watched the water turn pink and go down the drain. When the water was looking clear again I racked my fingers through his hair to make sure I didn’t miss any clumps. Satisfied I turned off the water and turned around to grab a towel for his head. Drying my hands I heard him ring out his hair.
“Wow, thanks.” He said breathily, I turned to see him inspecting his hair in the mirror. I walked up to him with a smile on my face.
“No problem.” He smiled back, leaning down he went for the towel in my hands. Before he could grab it I threw it over his head. He pulled the towel off his face with a pout.
“That wasn’t nice.” He began to dry his hair, moving his arms up and fast which caused his muscles to ripple beneath his skin. I gulped eyeing him as my body felt warmer than I would have liked in that moment.
“Maybe that's my definition of nice.” I said breathlessly. My voice was a little weak and I knew my cheeks were flushed. He eyed me before halting his actions, the familiar smirk grew on his face and he walked up to me, closing the distance between us so there was less than an inch separating our bodies.
“Is it?” He drawled, looking down at me. I looked at him from beneath my eyelashes, watching every movement he made as my heart felt like it was going to explode. I watched his eyes as they flickered between my own and then down to my lips. I felt us get closer but I wasn’t aware we were moving. “You know I quite like-”
“Oi, stop snogging!” George’s voice made us both jump away from each other. I looked toward the door but it was out of sight. Relief washed over me as I realized that probably meant he didn’t see us so close together. “The train is leaving in less than an hour and I want to get food before we leave.” I watched as Fred collected his things, he sent me a sympathetic smile and walked towards the door. I didn’t move both confused and embarrassed. I heard a smack followed by a yelp from George before the door shut leaving me alone with their soiled robes and my racing thoughts.
-
The train ride was full of chatter. Pushing past people to find an empty compartment I heard a lot of whispers about Snape's classroom, the boys behind me were trying to suppress their giggles as we walked down the tight hallway. I stumbled a bit but towards the end of the train cart but I found one.
“Finally.” I exclaim, I pushed through the door and struggled to lift my trunk over my head. Suddenly it became lighter and I watched it move above my head and onto its rack. Turning I saw Fred pushing it into place. “Thanks.” I breathed out.
He smiled down at me. His hand lingered on my trunk caging me between the seats and him. Seeing him above me made my heart flutter, his hair was getting longer and it fell into his eyes, leaning up on my toes I brushed it out of his eyes slightly. I watched him tense slightly and sputter for a moment. He froze and I sat down happily knowing I made flush. He sat down next to me, leaving little room between us despite the empty bench. I looked across to the other side of the compartment where Lee and George were eyeing me amused. Rolling my eyes I tried to send them my best ‘drop it’ face.
The train ride was filled with giggles and Fred and George telling us about the prank from their point of view. Half way through their story I zoned out, eyeing the rolling fields in through the window. My thoughts traveled back to the bathroom, what happened there and what could have happened if George didn’t interrupt.
Was he about to kiss me?
My logical side said I was crazy for considering it but my romantic side couldn’t deny the fact that he kept looking at my lips. I brought my hand up to trace my lips, imaging what could have been as the scenery outside changed from farm land to the city.
“Almost there!” I announced. I remembered I was staying with them and I was put on edge immediately. The thoughts of doubt resurfaced about being rejected because of my house. I felt my heartbeat quicken and my palms get sweaty.
“Mum’s so excited to meet you.” George said snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked at him puzzled.
“She wouldn’t stop writing about it,” Fred laughed from beside me. “You’re going to room with Ginny is that ok?” I nodded as a response still feeling the nerves buzzing around inside me.
“Yeah,” George snorted. “She didn’t us to sleep in the room, I don’t blame her though, I don’t want to be up all night because you and Fred are snogging or more than that.” He feigned disgust and I tried to push down the embarrassment as I pushed my focus on the window. I watched as the train entered the station, out of the corner of my eye I watched Fred chuck a chocolate frog box at his twins head and Lee laughing only to be kicked by George. I suppressed my smile and watched the station change from a blur of people into more recognizable shapes as the train stopped.
#fred and george#fred weasley#weasleys wizard wheezes#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley fanfiction#george weasley#fred weasley fluff#harry potter#weasley twins#fred weasley fic#fred weasley series#weasley supremacy#harry potter characters#harry potter fanfiction
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something good
A/N: Okay so I was going to write pt. 3 of If You Went Away tonight but then those promo pics came out and I was inspired to write some fluffy amelink instead. Also couldn’t get the image of Link holding Scout out of my head soooo here’s this. If you wanted pt. 3 don’t worry it’s coming, it’ll be the next thing I post!
_______
Amelia gasps awake suddenly, sitting up in bed. She looks at the clock. 4:33 AM.
It’s been happening a lot lately. The vivid dreams. The dreams that seem so realistic, they feel physically draining to wake up from. She doesn’t always remember the details. But in the moments that immediately follow her awakening, her mind is flooded with images of Meredith. And panicked thoughts about what’s going to happen to her.
Amelia knows that her sister-in-law’s current condition is the source of her stress. She spends most of her days worrying about Meredith. About what her being put on the ventilator truly means. And now the worry was creeping into her nights, too. Interrupting her sleep and making her heart race during the moments that were supposed to be the most calm and relaxing.
She sits all the way up and shifts to the side, placing her bare feet onto the floor below.
“Amelia,” she hears Link mutter sleepily behind her. She turns her head to the side, not fully looking at him.
“Hey.”
“You have another bad dream?”
Amelia smiles at the fact that he remembers. She never purposely wakes him up when the dreams happen. She always talks herself down until her mind is quiet and then eventually tries to fall back asleep. But, it was starting to become more physically obvious that she wasn’t sleeping well. It would be written all over her face the next day. She’d be dragging along, or she’d zone out too often, or suppress too many yawns. And so when Link had asked her what was up, she’d confessed about her interrupted sleep. About the vivid dreams that were hard to bounce back from.
“I’m good,” she doesn’t exactly answer his question. She gets up slowly, stepping into her slippers and moving towards the door.
“Where are you going?” Link still sounds like he’s half-asleep.
“I just have to check on the kids.”
“Hm?” Link seems a little more alert now, he’s sitting up partially and noticing the general quiet of the house. No baby crying. No movement from the other kids. “They’re good, no one’s crying.”
Amelia finally turns to him from the doorway, giving him a pleading look. “I just….have to.”
Link frowns.
“I’ll be right back.”
Amelia makes it a point to stop into every bedroom. She carefully approaches each door, peeking her head in to confirm what she already knows to be true. Zola is sound asleep. And when Amelia checks on Bailey, he stirs slightly, always a restless sleeper. Ellis is a sound sleeper like Zola, but also a heavy breather. Amelia smiles to herself as she recalls how Meredith would joke about Ellis one day developing her mother’s snoring habits.
When she approaches Scout’s nursery, she decides not to risk waking him up, knowing it will just add to her sleepless night. Instead, she places her ear to the door and listens for his sleepy babbling. The familiar sounds of her sleeping son comfort her and she forgets for a moment about Meredith. And about the current state of the world.
It’s Link’s snores down the hallway, carrying through from the open bedroom door, that shake her from her reverie. She tiptoes back to the room, leaving her slippers at the door. She collapses back onto her side of the bed and Link subconsciously rolls towards her, pulling her into his chest.
She breathes deeply; gratefully. She tries to sleep.
_______
A few days later, and Amelia is still feeling the repercussions of her sleepless nights.
She feels like she’s moving on autopilot as she folds the laundry. The distant sound of the TV, whatever movie she put on for the kids, fills her ears like mindless background noise. To her left, through the screened porch door, she can hear Maggie laughing loudly from somewhere outside. She peeks outside briefly to match voices with faces, before Link pulls her attention by walking in from outside.
“Oh hey,” Link grins.
“What’s Avery doing here?” Amelia questions.
“Oh, he had to drop something off to Maggie,” Link explains. “And then,” Link raises his eyebrow incredulously, “He had some things to discuss with me about Jo….”
Amelia squints at him. The tone of his voice matched with the look on his face leads her to believe that there’s a much bigger story there, perhaps for another time.
“Do I want to know?”
Link laughs, shaking his head. Just before he can answer, they are interrupted by Scout’s cries on the baby monitor. Amelia drops the clothes she’s folding and immediately moves towards the door.
“No, wait,” Link reaches for her shoulder, gently stopping her. “I got him. You should go out there and say hi to those guys.”
Amelia nods, letting him take this one.
Minutes later, when Link returns outside with Scout wrapped up in his arms, everyone else is heading out. He watches as Amelia waves goodbye and walks back across the yard in his direction.
“Someone’s awake?” She grins up at Link when she approaches.
“Oh yeah,” he looks down, matching her grin and adjusting the blanket. “Wide awake.”
Amelia’s phone rings, interrupting them, and Amelia glances towards the patio table, where she’d left her phone earlier. Her eyes grow wide momentarily as she focuses on Link, but then she’s quickly moving to answer it.
She looks down at the caller ID and her heart sinks.
“Dr. Bailey,” she answers, monotone voice.
Amelia doesn’t do a lot of talking after that. Just nodding. And Link watches cautiously, trying to gain any information from her facial expressions.
“Okay, thanks. Yeah. Thanks. Bye.”
Amelia hangs up the phone, placing it back down on the table slowly, and then releases a shaky breath.
“Amelia?” Link approaches her tentatively.
She stares ahead, avoiding eye contact with Link. Then shrugs somewhat apathetically. “There’s no news. No updates. She’s the same.” Amelia finally says.
Link sighs in relief. And Amelia’s eyes snap to his face.
“Why do you look relieved?”
Link shrugs, a little bit defensively. “Well that’s not bad news, exactly-”
“Right,” Amelia harshly interrupts. “It’s nothing at all, it’s-” she shakes her head, reaching up to rest her hands on top of her head. “What are we supposed to do with that?!”
Amelia’s voice is raised and it’s causing Scout to fuss. At the same time, the back door swings open and Zola steps out.
“Auntie Amelia?” her small voice grabs their attention.
“Zola,” Amelia greets her, doing her best to disguise her worry. “Is the movie over?”
“What’s going on?” Zola ignores her aunt’s question.
“Nothing, sweetie. We’ll be inside in a minute.”
Zola takes the hint and turns back around, heading inside. But Amelia can’t ignore the stress on her niece’s face. In a way, it mirrors her own.
“Amelia,” Link pulls her attention back. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before he speaks again. “It’s not bad news. Let’s not treat it as bad news yet…”
Amelia stares at him, then nods. “I just need good news....I need something good.”
“Well,” Link offers a smile, trying to see the positive in the situation. “Let’s hold out for that, okay?”
Amelia nods again in agreement, walking closer to him until she’s standing by his side. She gently rests her head against his shoulder. They stand there, the three of them, in momentary bliss, or hopefulness, or false positivity, or whatever the moment revealed itself to be.
Amelia finally lifts her head away, instead reaching for Link’s free hand and leading them inside. She glances up at Link. “I’ll take him to bed,” she reaches for Scout. “Will you reheat the kids some mac and cheese for a late dinner? I might go to bed early, too.”
“You should,” Link responds, surprised at the idea of Amelia actively attempting to get some sleep. “You need it.”
Amelia just smiles tiredly at him, her exhaustion catching up with her rapidly. She walks slowly up the stairs with Scout in her arms and listens to the excitement below as Link announces dinner to the kids.
After putting Scout down, Amelia realizes she can barely keep her eyes open. The weeks of restless sleep finally threatening to completely consume her. She can barely bring herself to change out of her jeans and sweater before collapsing into bed.
_______
Amelia wakes at 6:11 AM feeling surprisingly refreshed. It feels like forever since she’s slept through the night, and even though it feels fantastic, it also feels confusing. She hasn’t woken up on her own accord in a long time. Whether it was the stress dreams, or the sound of Scout’s cries, she’d typically be forced awake at some point.
But this morning, she wakes naturally. It’s confusing. And what’s equally puzzling, is the absence of Link next to her.
Blinking a few times to shake her sleep, Amelia gets out of bed. She shivers slightly, throwing one of Link’s sweatshirts on and walking down the hall to Scout’s Nursery.
It’s still dark outside, but with the street lamps filtering in from window, Amelia can make out her favorite scene in front of her. Link stands, humming softly, rocking Scout gently in his arms. It’s beyond adorable, and Amelia wouldn’t dare to interrupt the moment, so she hangs back and just observes.
“We can’t be up this late, little guy,” Link mutters. “I know there’s lots of not sleeping around here these days....But we can’t make a habit out of this….” He trails off and Scout sneezes lightly into Link’s neck, causing Link to stifle a laugh.
Link walks to the window and pulls open the curtains. Sunrise was on its way, the sky just barely starting to blush golden pink. Scout’s bright-eyed gaze turns to the outside, enamored. And Link watches Scout’s wonder.
The moment almost becomes too much for Amelia. It makes her heart clench to remember how profoundly afraid of this she was, how sure she was about never going through another pregnancy, or having another child. She looks at Link and Scout now, watches this perfect moment, and knows she wouldn’t trade anything in the world for this.
Scout starts to fuss a little bit in Link’s arms. A classic move for him in the middle of the night or early morning.
“Hey,” Link soothes. “Shhh, it’s okay.” He cuddles Scout up near his neck. Amelia watches as Link turns his head and gives Scout a kiss on the cheek, humming again to him softly.
Over Link’s shoulder, Scout makes eye contact with Amelia and lets out a happy gurgle. Link turns around, unaware that he was being watched, and grins when he sees Amelia. “Well look who’s here, Scout. Someone was trying to sneak up on us.”
“I was not,” Amelia retorts playfully.
“Sure,” Link teases as Amelia steps into the nursery and joins them, dropping a kiss on her son’s head. “We’re just hanging out. Didn’t want to wake you.”
“Ah, right,” Amelia grins. “How long have you guys been up?”
Link shrugs. “Just for a little bit.”
They both can’t help but stare down at their little guy. Scout’s eyes are growing heavy. And he sighs sleepily.
With a carefulness that still makes Amelia’s heart want to burst out of her chest, Link eases Scout off his shoulder and puts him down into his crib. "Good night, bud,” he whispers. Smiling, he turns back to Amelia and pulls her in at the waist, kissing her on the forehead. “Let’s go back to bed,” he offers.
The sun starts to rise as they walk back down the hall, Scout’s sleepy babble drifting away from them.
“You good?” Link questions as they climb back into bed.
Amelia nods, rolling onto her side to face Link.
“That’s good,” he mumbles, and Amelia laughs at how quickly Link becomes incoherent with sleep. “Everyone’s….good....” He trails off.
“Can’t think of another word?” Amelia stifles a laugh.
Link sighs, on the verge of unconsciousness. “Ask me again tomorrow.”
“It is tomorrow.”
Link’s quiet snores fill the space between them and Amelia smiles at the lack of response. For the first time in a long time, she feels restful.
//
#amelink#amelink fanfic#amelinkfic#amelia shepherd#atticus lincoln#amelia x link#greys anatomy fanfic#grey's anatomy fanfic#greys anatomy fic#grey's anatomy fic#my writing
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Oscar Diaz-Memories
@spookysmujer
Earlier today you had managed to convince Oscar to take you to the pier. After begging all morning he finally caved and agreed to accompany you, much to his dismay. When you guys first arrived he was fine but after half a hour with all the screaming kids and the heat from the sun he was completely over it. However you weren’t leaving with out playing a few games first and eating some greasy food. Along with something else that you knew Oscar would thoroughly enjoy.
“Where are you dragging me off to now?” He complains as you tug him behind you to a photo booth,”We’ve been here all day, it’s so hot out here mami. Can we just go home already? We can watch a movie or some shit.”
“Oscar we’ve been here for like a hour.” You laugh as you glance back at him,”I want some pictures of us so we can remember today.” You inform him,”We can still watch a movie after we get home.”
“That photo shit cost like 7 dollars, and it’s like three small ass pictures. Hell Nah, we can just take our own pics. The fuck we look like over paying for some pictures. ”
“Papi.” You pout as you stop in your tracks, a few feet away from said photo booth,”I want these pictures...please. For me.”
He looks at you with squinted eyes before wiping down his nose with his thumb and pointer finger,”Get yo fine ass in there if you want them that bad then.”
“Yay.” You smile and hurry over into the tight space, letting Oscar slide in behind you before you sit down on his lap,”Do you know I love you?” You ask him sweetly as you pull the curtain shut, the two of you now hidden away.
“Hm, you remind me every time I spoil you.” He says as he digs for some cash before handing it to you.
“Hey, I remind you all the time. Not just when you spoil me.” You defend as you enter the cash into the slot,”Do you love me?” You ask as you pick your background preferences.
“How long have we been together? Of course I do.”
“I just like to be reminded.” You smile as you lean back against his chest, the timer coming up on the screen.
“I love you.” He says in your ear as his hands slide around your waist.
“Hm I know, you’re going to love this even more.” You giggle as you lift your shirt up, Oscar instantly covering your breast with his hands as you turn your head to face him.
“Crazy ass hyna.” Oscar laughs, sticking his tongue out to press against yours as the first flash goes off.
“Shh, it’s fun.” You smile and rest your hands with his over your still exposed breast,”Now smile and look cute.” You demand as you do the same, the second flash going off seconds later.
“That one came out good.” You laugh as well as you completely rip your shirt off shirt before turning around in his lap, grabbing the side of his face with one hand and kissing his cheek on the other. The third flash going off seconds later, Oscar keeping his signature smirk on his face as he looks into the camera,”See, now we have picture perfect memories of our day today.” You grin as you slide off of him.
“We do.” He hums as he stays sitting down, his hands grabbing your ass as you stand in between his legs,”Let’s make a few more memories.” He suggest before his mouth is trying to catch one of your breast in his mouth as you swat him away.
“See, normally I would be down for that...but it’s way too cramped in here with your big ass, not to mention it’s also like 150 degrees.” You smile as you adjust the collar on his flannel shirt before grabbing your own and putting it back on,”Let’s grab those pictures.” You say moments later as you step away and pull the curtain open, the bright sun blinding you as you hop out and grab the little strip of pictures. Oscar collecting himself before joining you once more.
“I wanna see.” He mumbles as he looks over your shoulder,”Such a freak.”
“I thought you liked it when I get freaky.” You smile innocently as you slide your hand into his deep pockets to safely put the images away,”I could always tone it down papi.” You suggest playfully as you wiggle your hand closer to his member, Oscar pulling away quickly when he feels your fingers graze him.
“Chill out, don’t start something you can’t finish mamas.” He warns as you pull your hand back to your side.
“We always finish.” You wink as you grab his hand so you could find something else to do,”You actually usually finish inside of me.” You add, Oscar making a tight lip smile as he holds back his words and focuses on not getting a hard on in public,”Or in my mouth, depending on your mood.”
“Enough.” He says sternly as he gives your hand a squeeze,”You know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?”
“Keep playing ma, that mouth of yours is gonna get you into some serious trouble when we get back to the crib.”
“Maybe I want a little of trouble.” You shrug as you playfully raise his arm so you could so a little twirl before you continue to walk to the concession stand, the smell of the food catching your attention,”But first I want to eat.”
“You’re a mess.” Oscar chuckles at your antics as he shakes his head,”Me vas a volver loco.”
“You’re already a little crazy.” You tease as you get in line behind a younger couple,”That’s why we are so good together.”
“Is that so?” He asks as he wraps his arms around you from behind as the two of you wait.
“Two crazy people together means that they’re crazy in love. It’s simple math.”
“Simple math, right.” He hums in agreement before placing a kiss to the top of your head,”My baby’s fucking smart.” He jokes
“The smartest of them all.” You giggle as the two of you move forward in the line, the worker asking what the two of you would like.
“Let me get a hot dog with uh extra onions.” Oscar says before glancing down at you and the menu that hung over your heads,”She’ll get the cheese fries and a cherry slushy, large. Make sure them fries are fresh too.” You smile as he orders for you, pulling out his cash to pay as you thank the worker kindly.
After eating at a small table you and Oscar play a few games, your boyfriend making sure to comment about how everything was over priced. A few hours later and you two were home, the small pictures being put on your vanity since no one but you guys were allowed in the room,”Maybe we should take a few more pictures of our own.” You hear Oscar say into your ear as he sneaks behind you,”A whole movie if you’re up for it.”
“Oh? Cause you don’t have enough pictures or videos of me already?” You laugh as you turn around to face him.
“Never enough, I’m always gonna want more.”
“Well tell me Mr.director, what do you have in mind for this movie of yours?”
“Less clothes for sure.” He smirks, his fingers pulling down the straps of your top before pulling it down with your bra as well. Your breast spilling over as you look up at him innocently.
“What else?”
“You definitely gotta be on your knees for my vision to come true.”
“I can do that.” You nod as you sink down to the floor, gathering your hair up into a messy bun as you do. Oscar still delivering specific orders as he pulls out his phone, the camera focusing on your every move. You smile into it as you work on getting his jeans off, deciding that since you made Oscar join you at the pier that you could do this little favor in return and be the perfect little actress for him. It was the fair thing to do after all, and you would enjoy every single second of it.
#spooky diaz#spooky x reader#netflix on my block#on my block imagines#netflix#freeridge#omb#on my block season 3#one shot#omb season 3#oscar diaz x reader#oscar diaz
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